


Old Folks

by BeignetBenny



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consent Issues, Creature Gabriel, Daddy Issues, Hurt Gabriel, Hurt Sam Winchester, Illegal tattoos, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Monster of the Week, Road Trips, Slow Burn, not with sam or gabe, side destiel, well medium speed burn but oh well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-09 16:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10415817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeignetBenny/pseuds/BeignetBenny
Summary: Sam Winchester had been working his entire life for that moment. He would present his expedition, get the funding, and finally follow through with his dream. Traveling the world for the things that go bump in the night. The real monsters, cryptids, that were just there in the world’s own backyard.There were a few slight changes that needed to take place though. He’d need to do all of that with one thousand dollars, a Volkswagen Bus that nobody trusts to go more than one hundred miles at a time, and a smart talking anthropology major who is originally only there for the money.





	1. Footsteps

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this for so long, I'm excited that people will finally be able to read it!  
> A big thank you to  
> dragonpressgraphics: The artist, I shall link the art's separate post when I have the link  
> shadowcat221B: The beta, who I thank for the patience because I'm also doing their art and it's taking longer than anticipated. The link to their story is http://archiveofourown.org/works/10252799/chapters/22727579  
> And the SGBB mods for letting me participate in my third year!

“You’re not Mr. Winchester.”

“No, I’m his brother. Is Sam okay?”

“We called assuming that we would be able to speak with an adult.”

“Well, I’m his guardian right now. Everybody else is at work.”

“Where’s your father?”

“He’s busy. Can you tell me what my brother did or not?”

“He got in a fight with another student. Insisted that he was right and the other was an idiot before giving him a black eye.”

“Of course he did. Kid knows how to stand his ground.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he listened to his brother speak with the principle. She didn’t tell him the whole story. She skipped over the fact that it was Elliot who called him stupid first. He had called Sam names and shoved him, of course Sam was going to hit him back. Yet, that landed him in detention.

The fourth grader looked down at the tiled floor as he crossed his arms. “I’m not an idiot,” he grumbled to himself. “I don’t care if he doesn’t believe me. I believe me. And Dean believes me.”

The door creaked open and Dean walked through, carrying Sam’s backpack.

“Looks like you’re free to go, Sammy.”

He perked up. “Really?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. I mean, you still have a few recess detentions on your plate, but the other kid does too.”

The smile Sam had worn faded as fast as it appeared. He got up from the chair and yanked the backpack out of Dean’s hands before putting it on his back. “He deserves way more recess detentions than me. He started it.”

“I’m sure he does,” Dean agreed. “What was the fight about anyway?”

“He didn’t believe me when I said we saw Bigfoot.”

Dean’s pace slowed down. They were in front of the bus stop, their apartment only one stop away. “Oh yeah, forgot about that.”

“You don’t believe me?” Sam asked. “How can you not believe me. You were there!”

“Shut up, would you?” The bus pulled up in front of them and they climbed on. The bus driver nodded his hat, recognizing them.

“Hey, boys,” he said as he pulled the doors closed. “You going to Mary’s or John’s? Mary isn’t on my route today, but I could drop you guys off after.”

“No, we’re with John for the next week,” Dean walked towards their usual seats. “But thanks, Bobby.”

“I drew you a picture,” Sam said, digging through his backpack to grab a wrinkled paper. “We ran out of bus money, so  I hope this is good enough. It’s you riding on the Thunderbird. I learned about it yesterday. It’s the big bird that flies around Nebraska and I thought you would like it.”

Bobby, the bus driver, smiled and took the picture. “Thanks, Sammy. I’ll put it up when I get home. But make sure next time you see John, tell him to pay me double.”

Sam nodded before Dean called him back to their seat.

“Why don’t you believe me?” Sam asked, quieter this time.

“It could have been a bear.” Dean hummed.

“But bears don’t walk like that,” he insisted. “It was walking.”

“There is no bigfoot in Kansas.”

“Who cares, we totally saw one. We’ll be rich for finding him and taking good pictures and selling them to the news. Maybe He’ll do an interview.” Sam cleared his throat and tried speaking in a deep, raspy, voice. “Hi there Mr. Rocker, I’m Mr. Bigfoot. I went on vacation to a park in Kansas and this smart kid found me. It was awesome.”

He smiled up at Dean. “I swear. We’ll get money for it and both of us can monster hunt.”

“Yeah, totally.” Dean said, his smile forced. Sam could tell.

“But nobody believes me. You don’t even believe me.”

“No, I totally believe you,” Dean insisted. “I just need to play along around normal people.”

“I’m not normal?”

The bus pulled to a stop, right in front of their apartment complex. The brothers climbed out of the bus and thanked Bobby. Once the bus was gone, Sam turned back to his brother. “I can’t be normal and like cryptids?”

“No, you totally can. It’s just nobody else does.”  
Dean punched in the numbers so the door would unlock. They climbed the stairs in silence, as to not annoy their neighbors, and stopped in front of the door.

“That’s exactly what Elliot said,” Sam sighed, leaning against the wall.

“Calm down, Sammy. It’s baby steps. Plus, all these douche bags will be working for your monster hunting company in twenty years, max.”

“But, I’m not a baby. I’m ten.” Sam huffed. “And I don’t want to wait that long. I want people to like me. I want to be normal.”

Dean scoffed. “Nobody’s normal.”

“Oh yeah? Elliot’s pretty normal. His mom’s a pediatrician. His dad’s a lawyer. He wants to be a doctor. Don’t you get it?”

“What? Is monster hunting not a career choice for you guys?”

“You can’t just ignore me when I am excited about monster hunting one moment and act like you are serious about it now!”

“I am being serious. Oh, and that reminds me,” Dean unlocked the door to their apartment and shoved it open with his shoulder before rushing inside, leaving Sam to lock the door behind them. When he finally made it to where Dean was, he tossed the backpack to the side. “What?”

“Look what I just picked up,” Dean said with a smile, handing a book to Sam. At first, it didn’t look like much. A hardcover, dark sea green with gold lettering up the side. He felt over the blank cover, confused. “Look at the spine.”

As soon as he did, Sam felt his heart leap into his throat. Metallic embossed font read,

“Giants?”

Sam gaped. “You bought Giants? This thing was sold out everywhere! I’ve been looking for it for weeks! Does Dad know about it? Why doesn’t it have a cover?”

Questions kept spilling out of Sam until Dean laughed.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, forcing his smile to ease. Sam knew Dean was downplaying what was basically all the two of them had talked about for months. He also knew that Dean loved these stories as much as he did.

“Do you want to read it with me?” Sam asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, but only a chapter. Dad may come home early. He would freak out,” Dean leaned into the couch, letting his head drop back. “Try finding one about something neither of us heard of.”

“Neither?” Sam repeated, flipping through the pages. “Charlie told me it’s like a story, though. About this guy traveling the world and stuff.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Sam nodded. “Then find the chapter about where you want to go the most.”

“What about Russia?”

There was a pause, Dean opened one eye. “Why Russia?”

Sam shrugged. “I just think this one looks really cool. Plus, it’s cold. Yetis may be there and I can prove you wrong.”

A picture, almost entirely monochromatic, took the left page. A giant as tall as the trees while hunching over bore through the reader. It looked as if he was always aware. Always one step ahead. A mischievous smirk lurked behind layers and layers of what looked like willow leaves. The only spots colored were his irises. A deep gold, matching the letters on the spine.

“Leshy? I’ve never heard of that.”

“Neither have I,” Dean sat up and looked over his brother’s shoulder at the page. “Read on, Sammy.”

“ _The sun set long ago, days at least. I was certain of it.”_ Sam read slowly, trying as hard as he could to really understand what the author was feeling. _“Each second of the night raged on as if hours had passed. Snow crunched underneath my feet as I treaded into the middle of the forest. Distant laughter filled my ears, instantly giving me a lighter feeling. Despite that, I had no idea where the laughter had come from.”_

 __  
  


_In the beginning of time…_

_Animals and humans could…_.

_Zoology is the…_

_Dr. Karl Shuker said it best when he…_

_People have been…_

_qwedfgplkjhbgvcxygtfdresasdaehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhlbfdhlskgbrwjtg;k_

 

Sam felt the keys leaving impressions on his forehead as he hit it against his laptop once. Twice. Three times. Maybe giving himself a mild concussion would give the funders some sympathy. Who was he kidding? There was no way in hell that he could make any of it work. At least not in the three hours he would need to present the idea.

He took a deep breath and leaned back into his chair. Hoping that the air from the box fan on the corner of his desk would clear his thought at least slightly.

Breaking it down would usually help him. Smaller steps means less overwhelming.

Step 1: Finish the introduction

No, not good enough. He needed something smaller. Something more exact.

As Sam heard a hard knock on his apartment door, he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

Step 1: Answer the door.

He spun in his office chair towards the sound. His apartment was a cramped studio. Bed shoved in one corner, desk shoved in the other. A small fridge and oven pressed up against each other. Door frames so low that Sam needed to duck to get through them, and even then his head was too close to the ceiling for comfort. Palo Alto was expensive, and realistically, the apartment was good for what he paid for it. He knew the living situation wasn’t the best, but as soon as he could start traveling the world, searching for the things that go bump in the night, then it wouldn’t matter. Of course, being funded came first. Which meant finishing the outline and powerpoint and-

Another knock at the door, this time followed by a voice. “C’mon, Sammy. I know you’re there. I saw your Civic out front.”

Sam sighed and finally forced himself out of his chair. The only light in his apartment was emitted from his laptop. All the windows had been blocking everything else out, in the hopes that he would be less distracted. Although that was what he was aiming for, all he ended up doing instead was checking his phone every few minutes after pasting one single picture into his powerpoint presentation. He hadn’t even left the house in days. His hair was greasy, his shirt was from three days prior, and at that moment he didn’t quite remember the last time he got up to pee. Maybe having a visitor would snap him back into place before he needed to speak in front of a panel of people. Even if that visitor was just his brother.

Dean was the only real family that Sam had. Their father was absent, neither knew whether he was even alive. Same with their mother. Their uncle, who they spent more time with than their own father had passed months before. Dean was the one reason why Sam didn’t just up and left the US right after he graduated high school. Sam had applied to Stanford, initially wanting to go for Law, but he had lost his scholarship before the year even started. Dean did everything he could to keep Sam in Stanford. Keep Sam happy. Whether it was shelling out all the money he had ever made to the school or helping Sam reach his dreams. It was the one thing that their Dad said before he left them. Keep Sam happy.

Sam just wished he could give his brother something back.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here.”

He opened the door and went back to sitting in front of his computer while his brother decided to make himself comfortable.

“You almost done with that thing?” Dean asked as he looked over Sam’s shoulder at the screen.

“Almost is relative. I don’t even have my notes done yet, ” Sam sighed, running his hands through his hair. “They’re gonna hate it.”

“No way,” Dean insisted. “Show it to me. It can’t be that bad.”

Sam showed him, and he could tell by the look on his brother’s face it was worse than he had anticipated.

“Yeah, I should just scrap all of it,” Sam huffed, leaning back in his seat.

“No, not what I was thinking,” Dean countered. “Just pump it up a little. You’re talking out of your ass here.”

“My well-researched ass.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad,” his brother insisted. “I just know you. You can do better. Cryptids are boring. Maybe you’ll get the occasional Bigfoot sighting, but that’s just because it’s basically protocol.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Considering you’re the only one who will present this in front of a panel of nerds who are just waiting for the opportunity to fund a crazy post-grad to hunt down monsters. Yeah. Yeah, it is. At least give them a little backstory about why you want to hunt down folk tales.”

Dean stood up straight and slapped Sam on the back. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

The weight of what Sam was trying to accomplish finally started to settle in. Dean was right. Sam was the only one who had the guts to do anything even close to this. The panel was filled with archaeologists, historians, and zoologists. All people who, hopefully, would love to know what was really out there.

Sam could do this.

He totally could.

His hands hovered over the keys once more, refusing to make any sort of connection.

Step Two: Type the introduction  
Step Two: Just type the first sentence   
Step Two: Jesus fucking christ, just touch a goddamn letter!

“I can’t do this,” Sam breathed. “There’s no way in hell I can do this.”

“Okay then,” Dean sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you can’t do _this_. It’s boring and your structure is shit.”

“Thanks for finally seeing what I see.”

“But,” he continued. “Maybe talking out of your ass is your thing. Who cares about structure? Just get to the meat and bones of it. Make it more interesting.”

“How the hell do I do that?”

“Simple,” Dean reached forward and slammed the laptop shut. “Wing it.”

“Dean! What the hell?” Sam opened the laptop once more, waiting for it to reboot. “If I lose everything-”

“Sammy, calm down. It is not that big a deal. Shower, get some fresh air, grab a coffee. You’ll feel better, and then you’ll just be able to talk about the thing you’ve been obsessed with your entire life. This isn’t going to be your only shot. But I’m not letting you blow it over a fucking panic attack. Got it?”

“Got it…”

“Good.”

Dean slapped Sam on the back. “Go get ready. We’ll head to the quad, stop by a coffee shop, then you can just waltz right in and take those old guys money. Before you know it, you’ll be on a jet to wherever the hell you want, to do whatever the hell you want.”

Sam agreed reluctantly, packed his computer and notes, and followed his brother out the door.

He had spent the last five years of his life at Stanford, and he still couldn’t get over the beauty the campus held. The buildings were practically castles, topped with pinkish-red roofs and tan bricks. The grass on the main quad looked like it was straight out of a brochure. Plus, the people there weren’t that bad either.

The students at the coffee shop always looked to school spirited. The entire student body was matching in either dark red t-shirts with the crest across their chest or in similar t-shirts that were in white with the red designs. It was comforting knowing that, while inside the coffee house, he was surrounded by like-minded people. Each one studying something that was actually so important to them that they were willing to pay hundreds of thousands dollars to attend. Of course, there always were scholarships, Sam had a full ride when he finished his undergraduate. Yet, things happen, majors change, and suddenly, you’re like the majority. Clinging on to whatever grant you can get and practically living on the fact that once everything was over with, they’d be able to really do what they want. And, with the money they gain from making their dreams come true, pay off the school.

The necessity of Sam needing the funding finally started to settle and he choked on his five dollar coffee. It was literally his last chance to get everything right and he could blow it on a misplaced reference. He checked his watch. Two hours left to figure his shit out. Maybe Dean was right. This was Sam’s entire life. He was well researched, the funders were already interested, and if he played his cards right he can make it relatively interesting.

Step 3: Quell the panic attack that you can feel bubbling up, and wing it.

  
  


“I was first exposed to cryptids when I was young.” Sam started, pacing in front of the Smart Board behind him. His steps echoed off the walls just as much as his voice did. Five professors sat at a desk five feet away from him. Only one was already looking genuinely interested, his hair a shaggy black with gray streaks. Dark circles clung under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. Despite that, the same eyes held an excited gleam in them. The other professors looked less than interested. Busying themselves with the notepad in front of them, buttons on jackets, or simply looking right past Sam, daydreaming.

“My father thought it would be a good idea to give a hyperactive four-year-old a book about monsters. He said it would help with my nightmares if I at least knew what the hell was out there.”

The same interested professor laughed. The others around him looked up. Sam’s confidence grew, and he continued:

“I saw the pictures well enough, but my brother had to read it to me. The book was called From Flying Toads to Snakes with Wings by Dr. Karl Shuker. As expected, it didn’t help with nightmares at all. I was still having nightmares, some of them worse than others. Although Shuker explained a large amount of cryptids in the world and what they were capable of, my brother, being eight years old, couldn’t read half the crap in there. So, he made things up.

He made them sound like fantastic creatures like in fairy tales and less _real._ Of course, I was still mesmerized by it. I kept begging my father to get more, but he didn’t want my “obsession” to get the best of me. So I just re-read all of them when I could myself. And I swear, it was like reading them for the first time again. Although I read From Flying Toads first, the one that really made me want to do this with my life was Giants by Carver Edlund”

The interested professor smiled wider, something he didn’t think was possible. Sam was certain he had just nailed one sponsor at least.

“The story was the perfect mix of fantasy and reality. The way the creatures were described seemed so real and not as evil as some of the other books stated.”

Sam touched the Smart Board’s screen and watched as the presentation went on to the next slide. A picture of him from the year before with a group of other students in a jungled area lit up the screen.

“As some of you may know, what helped me get into this school was my helping of the community through conservation. What I did was relatively general. I’d find old documents, clean up historic sights, volunteer in ways that I could help endangered animals, hold rallies, et cetera. While completing my Pre-Law undergraduate, I realized my calling was more centered around historical zoology. I ended up doing my thesis on just that. Conservation of animals. Well, a lawsuit centered around that at least.

“A few other students and I traveled to Central Africa where we helped with Wildlife ACT. Which is a conservation effort to keep wildlife and wild places safe. While we were there, among tens of other animals, there was an okapi. The okapi used to be considered a cryptid itself. It was even the logo for the International Society of Cryptozoology.”

Sam switched the presentation again, turning to a slide with pictures and a list of former cryptids. “It wasn’t just the okapi that was found not to be a hoax. There was the komodo dragon, the platypus. Even the Hoan Kiem Turtle which was assumed to just be a part of Vietnamese mythology. Long story short, the other so-called cryptids may just be endangered or hiding. What I’m trying to accomplish with a six month long funded expedition is to hopefully conserve the animals who are going extinct, and to expand people’s minds by proving that these elusive cryptids are real.”

“And what happens if they’re not?” another professor said. He looked up from his notepad, a dark look on his face. His hair was cut short and his beard was untrimmed. A thick British accent coated his words. “You’d just be taking our money to go on a road trip.”

The words shocked Sam for a moment. He knew there would be someone who wouldn’t believe, that was expected. Yet, he couldn’t think of a response.

Before he had the chance to say something, Interested professor interrupted.

“I think this is a chance we’re willing to take. If he does find anything at all, whatever we put in will be replaced tenfold.”

“Is that you saying yes?” Sam couldn’t help but ask.

The professor gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Yes, it is. But I’m afraid I can only offer the assistance of a family member of mine and one thousand.”

“Whatever you give, I’ll be happy to take.” Sam’s grin felt like it was about to split his face in two.

“Good, because I don’t believe anyone else found your idea as grand as I did.”

The professor pulled out a checkbook and began scribbling onto one before ripping it out of the book and handing it over. “Besides, I can’t help that I have a soft spot for fans.”

It took three beats for Sam to even register what the professor had said. Then, he looked down at the check. Signed out from…

“Charles Shurley?” Sam breathed out. It took him only moments to connect the two. “You’re Carver Edlund?”

The professor - Chuck freaking Shurley - nodded. “No hiding it now, huh?”

He glanced behind him as the other panelists just stared. “Sam, is it alright if you and I talk alone?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course it is.”

He was still in shock. Chuck Shurley was his entire childhood. It wasn’t just Giant that he had written. It was What is and What Should Never be, Wendigo, so many others that Sam just spent reading in the library after it closed. And he was funding the thing Sam wanted to do most in the world.

If he wasn’t trying to be responsible, he would have been smiling like an idiot. Which he was doing anyway.

He forced the smile to settle down as Chuck - Charles? Professor Shurley? - closed the door behind him. The hallway was uncharacteristically empty. Large windows leaked the natural light into the hall. Reflecting off the walls and creating shadows on Professor Shurley’s face that made him look decades older. His eyes looked sunken in, laughter lines deep set in a way that they lingered with whatever emotion he was showing. His jet black hair had more streaks of gray then Sam once saw. His smile faded.

“You look tired, ” Sam managed, despite the number of thoughts rushing through his head. Nothing could settle long enough to form more questions. Maybe ask him what Giants was really about. Ask him why he would even consider helping him.

Professor Shurley smiled sadly, something that Sam began to realize was an almost permanent fixture on the writer’s face. “I am, ” He said matter of factly. “A lot’s been happening, Mr. Winchester.”

“Just Sam. It feels weird. You calling me...” he interrupted. “But keep going.”

“When I was young like you I decided I wanted to do the same thing,” The author started. “I searched for all the fights that I could find. Hoping that there would be something out there. I traveled the world trying to prove that I wasn’t crazy. Writing stories that my editor told me to change to something more fantasy friendly so the publishers would like it. I’m just impressed that somebody would actually consider them real enough to follow through with my research.”

“Of course,” Sam insisted. “I’ve been studying cryptozoology for years.”

“But,” Professor Shurley continued, the smile leaving. “People will think you’re crazy. That’s going to be the majority of reactions you get. They’ll be news articles written about you and you will become famous in the worst possible way. What makes it even worse is if you _do_ find them.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are people who have been searching as long as I have, but didn’t come out quite so lucky. They’re bitter, and if they can mooch off of someone’s profitability they will.” He shook his head, and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder and whispering. “Keep them safe, alright? I just don’t want any of these creatures in the wrong hands. I don’t know what I’d-”

When Sam opened his mouth to say something, nothing came out. The two of them were interrupted by the door swinging widely open, another scholar walking out.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked. Her hair was a fiery red tied back into a bun. She was on the younger side, maybe even younger than Sam himself. She wore a fitted black dress with a blazer. Unlike Chuck Shurley, she had a plate pinned to the lapel of her jacket that read: Prof. Anna Milton.

“No,” Chuck said, stepping to the side. “I was just telling Sam here about Gabriel Shurley.” He turned his attention to Sam for a moment. “My son. He’s an anthropology student here. Very good with languages too. He’s a little bit eccentric, but I’m sure you’ll learn to appreciate him like I did.”

He patted him on the back, shared a look with Professor Milton that Sam couldn’t quite decipher, and walked back into the lecture hall.

The professor watched as the door closed behind Chuck before turning her attention back to Sam. “You don’t have any transportation, do you?”

He shook his head. “No, ma'am. I mean, I have a car that I was going to use. Maybe drive up and down California. That could take weeks in itself.”

“Well, despite the fact that I’m not interested fully into your research, I’m interested as a viewer.”

“What do you-”

“I will fund you with something of my own. A vehicle that was given to me as a gift. I was interested in adventure too. You need to get around somehow, and I’d like to see you get farther than Los Angeles.”

“I-” Sam started. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything,” she insisted. “I’ve been trying to get rid of it for a long time.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. I’ll make sure to get it to you once you’re ready to take off, ” she nodded towards him and turned to go back into the lecture hall once more, before turning back around quickly. “Oh, and good luck.”

Sam watched as she left. Unsure what to do with himself after the last thirty minutes. His heart wasn’t beating in his throat anymore. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he had a heartbeat after that. It was only one thousand dollars, but it was enough. One thousand dollars, a mode of transportation, and a partner later, and Sam was finally about to fulfill his dream.

He was still in a dazed state leaving the hall, greeted by a cool evening breeze that eased him out of his stupor.

Dean was standing there waiting for him, an expectant look on his face. “So?”

“So?” Sam repeated. His shock still lingering.

“So are they funding you or not?”

All Sam could manage was a nod before he felt his brother’s arms wrap around him tightly.

“This is everything you’ve ever wanted, Sam. Why aren’t you freaking out?” Dean said with a laugh.

“No. No, I _am_ freaking out,” Sam sighed. “I just need some time to register it.”

“Well, you better start registering it. I’m calling everyone, ” Dean pointed at him. “We’re celebrating.”

Loud music had never been Sam’s thing. His idea of celebrating would have been to finally be able to get a full eight or more hours of sleep before waking up bright and early to start preparing for the trip. Dean had other plans.

Other plans including calling everybody that they knew and inviting them to a bar.  Everybody paid for their own drinks of course. The two of them combined barely even had five friends, with the acceptation for an acquaintance or two that the other barely even knew existed. Even though Dean thought it was a good idea, something they could both enjoy, it got out of hand. As Sam thought it would.

Sam wasn’t exactly the most pop culture savvy person. He grew up in the middle of nowhere, wherever his father and brother decided to go. He didn’t have the chance to learn about house parties through TV shows and movies unless they were from the 80s or earlier. How he learned about party culture was through Stanford. Maybe it’s just because smart kids have the ability to do dumber things, but Stanford parties were always excessive. Music would blast through the common rooms, echoing through the halls. Everyone except him looked like they were having the time of their lives.

Dancing, drinking, whatever the hell they wanted to do for the most part. Sam resigned himself to staying in a corner, taking the occasional sip from his drink and just people watching.

Maybe that’s why he got so obsessed with creatures who hid themselves. Sometimes in plain sight, others doing everything they could, not to be seen.

He sighed and took another sip. No use in trying to get anything done with all the noise, he might as well try to enjoy himself. Even if that was what he said when people first started arriving. A few more drinks in and he was finally beginning to feel himself let loose. If only a little.

He found Dean almost immediately. Near the beer keg speaking to Sam’s old roommate. Once they both made eye contact with him, they broke into huge smiles.

“I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you, ” his ex-roommate, Cas raised his voice over the music. “This is a little overwhelming, though.”

Sam shrugged. “It was Dean’s idea.”

“Hey, I invited five people. Not my fault that they brought friends.”

“You could have stopped them.”

“You know this campus better than I do, Sam. There’s no way in hell I could have done anything about it. For a bunch of nerds, you guys are fucking party animals.”

“You’re partner,” Castiel cut in, practically shouting so he could be heard over the roar of people. “Have you met him yet?”

“Gabriel? No, I haven’t.” Sam said with a shake of his head. “Why?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure that’s him talking to Jess.”

“What?” Sam asked, looking in the direction that Cas was looking to find a shorter man, sipping at a beer and looking up at Jessica. Through the flashing lights, Sam could see a distinct smile from the shorter man. A smirk that reflected off the colored lights that flashed around them through a thick beard. He wore a beanie pulled low on his head and light hair that curled around the edges, revealing wood patterned gauges hanging low on his ear plus bright golden eyes that seemed to change colors with the lights. A paint splattered jacket clung to his arms, laid over a Pink Floyd world tour T-shirt from ‘87. The guy looked like a walking advertisement for a Goodwill.

Sam was already infatuated.

“That’s him?” he asked, not taking his eyes away from his new partner.

“I’m certain,” Castiel said. “He’s a family friend of mine.”

“And you didn’t know he was a Shurley?”

“Well, I always knew he was a Shurley. I never knew it was Chuck who wrote the books. The man’s a drunk. Brilliant, but a drunk.”

Sam wasn’t entirely sure if he responded or if he just kept staring. His brother cleared his throat.

“You gonna stare at him for the next few hours or are you actually gonna make a move?”

“Make a move?” Sam repeated with a scoff. “God no. Why would I- I wouldn’t just-”

“Oh look,” Dean smirked. “Sammy’s blushing.

“Shut up, ” Sam bit back.

“At least introduce yourself,” Cas insisted. “You will be spending the next six months with him after all.”

Time felt like it had slowed down as Sam attempted to psyche himself up enough to speak to him. But, two more shots later, he finally found the courage to speak. He walked towards him, slowly, holding onto the remainder of the beer he had yet to finish. Right as he was about to say something, another body bumped into him, causing the drink to spill all over Gabriel in the process.

“Oh my God,” Sam said, grabbing a handful of napkins and shoving them in the other’s direction. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just coming over to-”

“You’re fine. The coats’ from the lost and found in the art building anyway. I have no idea whose it is,” Gabriel said, pulling off his jacket and taking the napkins from Sam. “The shirt, on the other hand, may cost you.”

“How much?”

“Just enough to pay for detergent at the laundromat at least. Then maybe dinner to make up for it.” He began dabbing off the liquid from his shirt.

“I haven’t introduced myself,” Sam said, forcing his hand out, hoping that the man wouldn’t notice how awkward he was being. This was supposed to be business. The flirting was accidental and probably not even real.  “Sam Winchester, Zoology and History with a focus on cryptozoology.”

The other’s eyes locked with Sam’s. For a moment, Sam was panicked that he made the worst first impression in the history of worst first impressions.  
After a moment of awkward, deafening silence, a hand grabbed his. “Gabe Shurley, Anthropology with a focus in reality.”

“Gabe,” Sam said, testing the name. “Nice to meet you.”

“You’re the guy my dad wanted to ship me off with?”  
Sam shrugged, well cringed, while casually moving his shoulders.   
“Thought you would have been the avoid interaction type.”

“I usually am, trust me. I just thought this was a more casual meeting than-”

“What, a board room?”

“Or anything, really.” Sam laughed. “I’m kinda tight on budget right now, so it may be an either slash or for the laundromat or dinner thing.”

Gabriel smirked, looking Sam up and down. “There’s a really good burger place nearby. A little more intimate too.”

Sam nodded. “Lead the way.”

Gabe grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him through the crowd. Dean and Cas watched as they passed. Dean held his thumbs up and smiled stupidly while Cas just looked on in awe mouthing _That was fast._

When they broke free from the party, they were both hit with a breath of fresh air, no longer being in the muggy bar. Before Sam could make any more comments, Gabe kept pulling him along until they made it to this dive looking burger bar in between a Thai restaurant that was just closing and a school store.

They found a seat quickly, being one of the only other people there. Static from the TV suspended on the wall adjacent to them mixed with the country music. Twangy guitar just loud enough to make the scratching and sizzling sound from the kitchen a little less grating.

“So, where were we?” Gabe asked, skimming over the menu. Sam hadn’t had the chance to notice earlier, but Gabe’s eyes weren’t just brown. They were gold mixed with a chestnutty brown color. He was too distracted trying to find any other colors woven into Gabriel’s eyes that he missed the question completely.

“You okay, Samsquatch?”

Sam knit his eyebrows together. “What did you just call me?”

“Samsquatch?” Gabriel said, unsure if that was the right answer. “You’re like a giant. Apologies for comparing you to the things you want to hunt.”

“Oh, I don’t hunt,” Sam interjected. “I do conservation projects. You know, find the animals, nurse them to health, population growth, that sort of thing.”

“Really?” Gabe asked, looking up from his menu for a moment.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. The only reason I got into Stanford was because of the shit ton of volunteer work I did.”

“Wow, kind hearted and hot,” Gabriel smirked, then looked back down at the menu. “They have this thing here called The Lumberjack. It’s like a grilled cheese with ham and has caramelized bread. I usually only have it when I’m tripping. But, you know. Seize the day and all. Does that sound good to you?”

“I can only afford one sandwich.”

“Kinda got that, Sammy. That’s why I asked. I was gonna split it.”

“I’ll pass.”

Gabe shrugged and waved for the attention of the waitress. “Suit yourself, Sammy.”  
After ordering, he turned his attention back to Sam. “So, what’s got a guy like you involved with a washed up asshole like Chuck?”

“You guys aren’t on good terms?” Sam asked.

“Fuck no,” Gabe tossed the menu to the side. “Daddy hasn’t even spoken to me face to face in months. So I’m a little shocked when he comes to me and talks about you. But, at the same time, I’m not surprised he would want me as far away from him as possible.”

“He was talking you up when he told me about you. Said that you were smart, good with languages-”

“But, he’s never said that to my face, so it doesn’t really count,” Gabe said with a shrug. “So, wanna give me the game plan?”

“You don’t need to come with me, you know that right?” Sam asked, to which Gabe only responded with a shrug. “Uh, it’s six months technically, but I don’t think we could cover much ground with one thousand. I have some extra money I was going to put into this too along with whatever my brother puts in.”

“Got an itinerary planned?” Gabe asked. The waitress came back, setting down the food in front of Gabriel and a water before Sam.

“I had one planned since I first wanted to do this,” Sam admitted. “But, it’s unrealistic. So I was going to go with the flow. Pick and choose which recent sightings seem the most realistic and just drive around.”

“Go big or go home, Sam,” Gabe said, taking a large bite of the sandwich. Crumbs scattered around his mouth and cheese stuck to the corner. “Future reference, I want to see the Thunderbird and the Beast of Dartmoor.”

“What happened to concentration in reality?” Sam mocked.

“A guy can’t be curious?” Gabe wiped his mouth on the beer and paint stained jacket. “Nobody ever talks about those ones. But, Thunderbird was seen pretty recently. 2007 or something like that.”

“So you’re in?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Sam smiled into his drink before taking a sip. The TV began cutting in and out, a few phrases scattered between static. The busboy climbed onto one of the booths and whacked at it with his towel. Suddenly the image and audio were clear.  
“Supposed Sea monster found dead in Central California.”

“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, his attention devoted entirely to the TV.

“This “Tessie” was found washed up onto the shore four hours ago by students from San Francisco who have this to say about it-”  
“Looks like you chose a good time, kiddo,” Gabe hummed. “Cryptids need all the help they can get.”


	2. A'Le'Inn

Sam wasn’t entirely sure what to say, after spending seven hours driving from Berkeley to San Diego in a muscle car from the sixties, with more miles than anything should ever have. In an airport parking lot no less, he was not expecting a bus.

A 1972, bright orange, Volkswagen Bus.

“This is what she meant?” Dean scoffed. “No wonder she wanted to get this shit off her hands.”

“I mean,” Sam shrugged. “Try looking at the bright side”

“What bright side?” Dean asked. “The fact that you’ll need a new engine before you even get out of the country?”

“The fact that I now have a car and won’t need to steal the Impala.” Sam took a step closer, taking in the ancient car. “Plus, it kinda adds to the feel of the trip.”

“Sammy, think about this for a second,” Dean said. “It looks like you’re driving the bus from Scooby Doo. If the wild monsters that you’re looking for don’t kill you first, then the embarrassment will.”

“I’ve actually kind of always wanted one of these,” Sam ran a hand over the VW in the center of the front. “Not exactly this color. Or, you know, eighteen years older than me.”

“I guess I should have told you first, huh?” Sam looked up to see Anna. She was wearing a simple pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and her hair tied up in a messy bun. Not exactly something he thought he’d ever see the professor wear. “I was sort of vague.”

“I’m not complaining,” Sam insisted. “These things aren’t usually the cheapest. Especially in this good of condition.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she said with a smile. “The inside is pretty much set for travel. You may want to get a few more things so the trip is more comfortable. It’s officially yours to do with what you wish.”

“Thank you so much, Professor, this means a lot.”

“Please,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Just call me Anna. This is personal, remember?”

“How many miles are on this thing?” Dean cut in.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t say more than eleven hundred. My dad got it for me when I was younger because I wanted to see the world. Didn’t even get to Washington before I decided the van life wasn’t for me.”

Anna patted on the front, the van making an almost hollow thunk sound. “Didn’t have the chance to name it though. She deserves one.”

“She?” Sam asked.

Anna responded with a nod. “Well, I always said she. Shouldn’t be going on assigning genders to cars though, right? There's a good amount of room. I’d say it could fit five comfortably. But, you’re only traveling with one other person. The extra room can be used for supplies or a sleeping area. Did you ever say who you were traveling with?”

“Heya, Sammy!” Gabriel walked up behind him, toting a large travel bag on either shoulder. His smile faltered as soon as he saw Anna. “Jesus fucking Christ…”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “Christianity? That’s a new one for you. Usually, it’s Norse gods.”

“Well, you deserve it.”

Gabriel looked lost and distraught at the same time. He locked eyes with Anna, and yet he looked like he was staring straight through her. “To what do I have the pleasure, Professor?”

She nodded her head towards the van. “It’s all yours. Picked it up from a mechanic just for your expedition.”

“It was always mine. But, thanks for the sentiment.” Gabriel chided with a roll of his eyes before walking closer to the van and tugging the passenger side open. “We should be leaving. We have some monster hunting to do.”

“Maybe you guys should go and get supplies first,” Dean interrupted. “No offense, but I think I want to look over this one myself.”

Anna shrugged. “Whatever you want to do. It’s not my car anymore. Because it was actually mine. You abandoned her.”

“That’s hilarious, especially coming from you.” Gabe bit back, stepping into Anna’s space.

“Oh, and you’re any better?” She scoffed.

Sam cleared his throat loudly.“Wow, Dean, you’re probably right. Our first actual stop is about ten hours. Gabe, is there a good place nearby?”

“There’s a Costco about two miles away. We’ll stock up there,” Gabriel supplied before forcing a duffle bag into Dean’s hands. “Here, Ken doll. Since you want to get familiar with this creamsicle, you can just toss this into the passenger side. What time should we come back?”

“Maybe an hour.” Dean responded, reluctantly pulling the duffle over his shoulder.

“Good,” Gabe nodded. “And you're leaving before that. Aren't you, Professor?”

Anna hummed. “My flight back to San Francisco boards in twenty-five minutes.”

“Shouldn’t you be at the terminal then?” Gabe asked. “TSA usually isn’t the biggest fan of aliens.”

“You’re no one to talk.”

“Oh, I’m full blooded.”

“I don’t have time for this. We’re adults, Gabriel.”

“You’re right,” Gabe said, a distant smile on his face. “You’re at twenty-four minutes now. That’s even better. Sammy and I are gonna head out. See you in six months.”

Gabriel walked away, not waiting for Sam to follow him.

He watched for a moment, then looked over to Anna “What was that about?”

“Gabriel and I have some history,” She said with a shrug. “He’s my brother. Chuck has a tendency to collect wayward kids. He found me a few months after Gabe. Italy. Abandoned at a church. We never really got along.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “Oh…”

“He didn’t tell you?” Anna asked, surprised. “Usually it’s the first thing out of his mouth.”

“No, not at all actually. But I don’t blame him. We’re practically strangers.” Sam quickly added. “It’s just that I remember reading about something like that in one of his books.”

“Life imitates art, I guess.” She paused, her soft expression fading as she watched her brother walk away. “You shouldn’t keep Gabe waiting. He gets whiny.”

As if on cue, Gabriel called back to him. “C’mon, Samsquatch. The faster we go the faster we leave.”

                                                    

 

“Who the hell would want Clif bars in bulk?” Gabe mumbled to himself as he scanned the produce. “They taste like shit. Look like it too.”

“I would,” Sam offered, looking over his shoulder. “They’re healthy. Just enough to keep you going.”

“Maybe, but I can’t do that for six months,” he sighed, standing up straight and digging his hands into his pockets. “What about ramen? Or s’mores?”

“Well, I can’t do _that_ for six months,” Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Dean’s probably done with the bus. We should head back.”

“Am I already boring you?”

“No!” Sam insisted, holding his hands out. “God, no. You’re fine. It’s just… I just have this thing and…”

“About what?” Gabriel asked, stepping into Sam’s space.

“Time?” Sam said with a shrug of his shoulders. “These things move fast and if it's seen in one place, you have to get there in the next day and a half before it moves and you’ll miss out on it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I tried tracking one down before. Found it. But when I went to show everybody, it was gone and I was deemed insane.”

“You found a cryptid before?” he asked, interested. “Which one?”

“Does it matter?” Sam didn’t look at him. Instead, he picked a box of chocolate Clif bars and put them into their basket. “That one is probably a hoax anyway.”

“Oh yeah. Unlike Mothman, right?” Gabe teased. “Or the Loch Ness Monster.”

“I get it, this is already pretty insane.” Sam walked down the aisle and grabbed another box of some dry, nonperishable, mountain food.

“I never said that. I am coming with you after all.” He leaned forward onto the cart, using his arms to balance his weight without rolling forward. “So, how much time do you think we have until our first stop disappears forever?”

“Nevada is already a guessing game. We’re probably going to just circle the state for a few days before we even get close.” Sam tossed another box in the cart. “But I’d say about a day.”

“Alrighty. Then we should probably get going, shouldn’t we?” Gabe replied. “The less food we get, the more adventure we can have anyway. You can only do so much with one thousand.”

“And another four.”

Gabe halted in his place. Sam hadn't noticed and walked a few steps farther down the aisle before turning. “Something wrong?”

“Another four what?” Gabe asked. Any joking tone that he still carried leaving in an instant.

“Thousand.” He answered.

“How?” For the few days he knew him, Sam knows that Gabriel could hold a conversation with a slab of concrete. Yet, all he could manage suddenly was a few words at a time.

“Savings.” Sam said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been putting one hundred out on every paycheck. Dean would maybe add something every few months.”

“For how long?”

“My entire adult life pretty much. But we had to get money out every once and awhile for emergencies. But, it’s what we’re working with. If we have any left over, I don’t know what I would do with it, though.”

“You could always give it to me,” Gabe forced a laugh as he leaned more onto the cart. Feigning sarcasm.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“I’ll give it to you. If there’s anything left, of course. I’ll just give it back to you. And you’re dad will get the money that he put back into it.”

“I was joking,” Gabe insisted, having a hard time telling if Sam was as well.

“I’m not.” Sam shrugged: “I’ve been living on scraps for a good chunk of my life because of this and trying to live in California. I’ve adapted. I wouldn’t even know what I would do with the money anyway. My apartment is handled if I keep my job, my car is paid off and now the kombi. I would just end up saving it again.”

There was a pause. Gabe was at a loss for words. A guy that he had only just met, offering him money. Even if it was just a few hundreds left… he could go home.

“What are we waiting for then?” Gabe said. “Let’s ring this up and get on the road.”

                                                    

The clean air rid the car of the musty old smell that Gabriel had once been accustomed to. He was surprised that Anna would even think about giving this beauty away. He had jokingly called it Scully when Chuck first brought it home. The bright orange color along with the alien stickers pasted onto the ceiling. Chuck insisted it was a bargain and exactly what the family needed. The best way to collect all those unfortunate souls that he would write about with Gabe, Anna, and Michael by his side. He took a deep breath and forced it out. Attempting to calm himself. There was no reason to think of his deadbeat dad, spoiled younger sister, or older brother he hadn't seen in years.

"Is it too early for a potty break?" Gabe joked, looking over at Sam. His face was filled with a type of joy Gabe wish he felt. He had traveled before, it wasn't anything new to him. But Sam looked like he was having the time of his life on an open two-lane road into the middle of nowhere. "Did you say something?" Sam asked, glancing over at Gabriel.

"Nothing important," Gabe said instead. "Just curious when you wanted to switch."

"I could go a few more hours," Sam hummed.

"Of course you could. I'm not complaining."

They had passed the Nevada border two hours ago. Even driven around Las Vegas. So far, there was nothing. The two of them only spoke every once in awhile. Whether it was about the radio station, food, or just conversation. Neither were exactly comfortable with the other yet. Which just made existing in each others space that much more uncomfortable. The bus was big enough, could fit five people comfortably. Yet, just the two of them felt like they were taking more space than they should. They could only push forty-five before Scully would start to shake and rattle. It was every few minutes that Sam's foot would go a little heavier on the pedal, wanting to drive into the sunset, before Scully made the situation known. It had happened multiple times over, but something felt off. Sam swore under his breath and pulled over onto the side of the road.

"What's wrong?" Gabe asked, looking over at him.

"Gas," Sam breathed, looking defeatedly at the gas monitor. "We won't make it more than another few miles and if it stops we'll be in the middle of nowhere."

"So, which way do you want to go?" Gabe asked. "Dead in the middle of the desert on the ET highway south or dead in the middle of the desert ET highway north?"

"North has to be a better bet. There has to be a town somewhere." Sam breathed. "Maybe somebody will help." He turned off the air conditioning and continued driving straight.

“The air will only get you a few more miles,” Gabe commented, distracting himself with flipping through radio stations. “I heard you were the encyclopedia of all this stuff. Anywhere we can stop before the bus does?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“My father.”

“Of course,” Sam worried his bottom lip between his teeth but didn’t look over at Gabe. “We passed a city sign a few minutes ago. Did you catch it?”

“Kind of hard not to.” Gabe scoffed. “The thing was the only sign for miles. Pretty sure it was Rachel. It was written in comic sans with some UFO clipart. It was a decent attempt, I’ll give them that.”

“There’s this motel thing here,” Sam began. “I only know because there was this shitty movie they filmed there. Paul or something.”

There was a pause before Gabriel responded. “I loved that movie,” he mumbled, turning his attention to the window.

Sam only glanced at the other before continuing. “Anyway. It’s a real thing and I know it's in this city. I can’t remember if there was a gas station there. If all else fails, we stay for the night.”

“It has Simon Pegg, Seth Rogen-”

“You’re not helping your case here, buddy.” Sam scoffed.

“Oh my-” Gabriel shook his head and looked back at Sam. “It’s literally what we’re doing right now. How can you hate a movie about everything you’ve wanted to do?”

“I haven’t even seen it,” Sam admitted. “I just know it’s absolute horse shit. Everything with Rogen is.”

“You take that back right now,” Gabe pointed an accusing finger at him. “It’s cinematic gold. Absolute cinematic gold. Right up there with the Cornetto Trilogy, I can’t believe-”

“I don’t like comedies,” Sam stated. “There just sex and fart jokes.”

“I can’t even stay in this car with you,” Gabe scoffed. “How about we make a deal? We make it through this desert, and you watch Paul with me. None of your commentaries allowed.”

“Fine,” Sam relented. “I’ll watch your crappy alien movie starring Seth fucking Rogen without comment. But, after it’s done I can say whatever I want.”

“Deal.” Gabe caught himself smiling still minutes after the conversation was done. He forced the childlike excitement down and tried to focus on the objective. Which, at the time, was for the car not to stall in the middle of a desert.

But, of course, they weren’t exactly the luckiest people on earth.

Poor Scully made it about a half-mile away from the motel before she stopped. They could see the motel from where they were, but it was still a walk neither wanted to do while the sun was still beating the sand. The two of them wasted some time, reorganizing so they could fit everything of importance into a bag or two. Hoping to possibly lighten the load as well. Afterward, they worked on pushing Scully as close to the motel as possible. Well, Sam pushed, Gabriel steered. Thanks to the slight decline of the road, paired with Sam’s nerd muscles and Gabe’s fantastic steering, they made it another ten feet. They would have made it farther if Gabe hadn’t seen Sam struggling to make it another inch before collapsing through the wing mirror. He put the car into park and climbed out before slamming the door behind him

“I can get it a little farther,” Sam insisted, heaving in breaths. “I just don’t want it out here in the middle of the night.”

“Calm down, Wonderboy. I think we’re close enough.” Gabe picked up their duffle bags from the ground. “I could have helped.”

“I handled it.”

“Maybe,” Gabe hummed. “But it sort of looks like you’re about to have an asthma attack.”

“I brought my inhaler,” Sam said with a shrug. “I could’ve gotten there.”

“You’re joking.”

Sam nodded while grimacing. “It was supposed to come out more as a joke but-”

“But you can’t really sound sarcastic while suffocating.”

He nodded again. “We should head over there. The sun is starting to set. I think it’s only about a ten-minute walk. Maybe less.”

They trekked across the desert road. Gabe would occasionally try to spark conversation, but Sam would turn him down almost immediately. It was understandable, didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though. The rest of the walk was spent in silence until they made it to the motel’s entrance.

Gabe admitted that his personal aesthetic was a little out there. Wearing clothes from Thrift Shops that once obviously belonged to an old man or his copious amounts of lost and found jackets. Plus, his love of the bright orange V-dub made it a little hard for him to be taken seriously. Especially by Sam. But the motel was too much, even for him.

They were greeted by a flying saucer being towed by a beat up truck, frozen in the gravel. A large, white sign with a caricature of an alien stood next to the UFO. In large blue letters painted in an analog font read: Restaurant - Bar - Motel. Earthlings Welcome.

“Little A’Le’Inn.” Sam said, enunciating each sound. As if Gabriel hadn’t seen the pun already. “Kind of underwhelming.”

“You’re joking?” Gabe asked, still entranced by the sign.

Sam shook his head. “I mean, the UFO tow truck is kind of what I was expecting. The rest, not so much.”

He was right, other than the sign, the outside looked like any other dive bar that you could come across. The building was a dirty off white, laying low to the ground with flat tin roofs. Only four cars were in the parking lot and nothing was around them. For all anybody really knew, the motel could be the only part of Rachel that was populated.

They walked into the motel, and the interior wasn’t any better. It was decked out in alien postcards, pictures from what they said was Area 51, along with a large remake of the Extraterrestrial Highway sign behind the front desk. Tables were scattered around, only two of them occupied. An older woman in an “Aliens Believe in Me” sweater with a pin that read: Nancy on it. She had a book pressed flat onto the counter and was hunched over it.

Sam walked up and tapped on the bell that sat on the table to get her attention. When she looked up, she smiled at the two.

“Hi, boys!” she said as she pushed her book to the side. “What can I help you with. Planning to stay the night? Maybe just here for a bite to eat?”

“No,” Sam said with a wave of his hand. “Our car ran out of gas and-”

Her smile faded. “Oh hun, you should know better. Rachel doesn’t have a gas station.”

“Yeah, I had the feeling,” he hummed. “But I was hoping maybe you’d have a spare gallon around. We just need enough to get to the next town over.”

“Not that we really hand out to the public, Darlin’,” she said with a shrug. “The gas we do have we keep to ourselves. Maybe a paying customer if they’re really lucky.”

Sam rolled his eyes and leaned forward on the counter so his arms were supporting him. “Then, I guess we’ll get two coffees to go.”

“A little more than that, sweetheart.”

“And an ET highway shirt. Maybe a few stickers.”

“Getting closer.”

“One night,” Gabriel cut in as he fished through his coat pockets for his wallet. “Unit 2-2.”

“Gabe-” Sam began, glaring up at his partner.

“You sure you two can share a twin bed?” she asked teasingly, her hand already out to take the money.

“I’m sure we’ll manage. We prefer fucking on the floor anyway. Feels more carnal,” he held out his credit card and ID. “Plus, there’s more space.”

In the corner of his eye, he saw a blush rise to Sam’s ears. But, he had nothing to say. “I have the right to refuse service.”

“Then we’ll just siphon it out of your car. It’s not like it’s hard.” He said with a shrug: “Besides we are now paying customers.”

Nancy reluctantly took the card and swiped it before handing him a key. “Unit two is out back. Closest to the Area 51 Cabin.”

“Thank you. And the gas?”

“I’ll get David to help the bigger one with that. I’ll send him to your room when he’s ready.”

They walked out of the motel and began to look for their room. They had circled the motel once already, just looking around, before Sam broke the silence. “Why did you say that?” he asked, looking closely at the numbers on each door of the trailers.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the whole fucking thing,” Sam glanced at Gabe. “It was funny, but maybe just a little…”

“A little what?”

“Too much,” he finished with a sigh. “I mean, we’re not like that. We’re nothing like that. Hell, I just met you.”

“It was just a joke, Sammy,” Gabe commented, giving Sam a playful shove. “Besides, the look on her face was worth it.”

“It was just a little weird.”

“What?” He teased, stopping in front of Sam. “Did it get you a little hot and bothered thinking about it?”

“Oh look, Unit 2-2.” Sam stared right through him and proceeded to walk past and step up to their room. He began fiddling with the lock on the door as Gabriel walked up behind him.

“If it was that bad, I’ll stop,” Gabe added.

“It wasn’t that,” Sam insisted. “I just don’t want to ruin the only chance I have with this whole thing.”

“Why would a joke ruin that?”

“Just a distraction I guess,” he said with a shrug. “I should get going anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if the bus had more crap wrong with it than just gas. I’m pretty sure I saw it leaking and I should take care of it.” Sam turned to leave. “Try and get a little sleep. You’re driving tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel called back as Sam walked off. “I’ll just wait here. And try not to decipher what you just said to me for the next few hours.”

After Sam left, Gabriel made his way into the room. It was just as disappointing as the rest of the storefront. One twin bed was shoved into the corner, the other wall only a yard away from the edge of the bed. Wood paneling surrounded him with a rough carpet underneath and no window. He was already craving to be outside again. The walls felt like they were closing in. He lay down and stared up at the ceiling. Longing to see the night sky. Before he knew it, he let his eyes close.

                                                    

Sam had left hours ago. With a gas container in hand and a promise he'd be back in a few minutes. He had insisted that, since the room was cheap, they'd leave before they would even need to sleep there. Which wasn't entirely wrong. Gabriel hadn't gone to sleep, but the sun sure as hell was starting to rise the next time he walked back into the main area of the motel. His stomach was aching for food. He had made his way through three granola bars already. So, sketchy diner food would have to do.

Another woman was at the front desk when he came back in. This one was younger, with dark brown hair tied into a tight ponytail. She wore a loose fitting Little A'Le'Inn t-shirt, dark wash jeans, and an apron tied tight around her waist. Gabriel shuffled his way to one of the tables and practically collapsed into the chair. He spent some time with his head lolled onto the back, forcing his eyes to stay open. All he wanted to do was be on the road again. All he wanted was for Sam to be back.

The woman walked up to him, setting a laminated menu on the table. "You were in Unit 2-2, right?" She asked. Gabe only nodded in response. "Yeah, everybody has the same look when they get out of there. Some people say it feels like the walls are closing in on them."

He scoffed. "That's an understatement."

"Well, it wouldn't be the full Little A'Le'Inn without a nightmare or two," She pulled a small notepad from her apron pocket and a pen from behind her ear. "Anything I can get for you?"

"Coffee, and the french toast." He forced a small smile, in an attempt to be polite.

She wrote it down, strands of hair falling into her face as she looked at the notepad. She looked back up and opened her mouth to say something but froze. "Shit..." She said in a whisper.

"What?" Gabe asked, then looked behind. Two large men in perfectly pressed black suits and dark sunglasses stood by the door, scanning the area. "Shit."

"I'm sorry. I have to go take care of this." The waitress said before tucking the notepad into her pocket and rushing off.

Gabriel stood up from his seat and pushed it back in before walking over to the displays. Forcing himself to look as natural as possible. He tried to think reasonably. They probably weren't even there for him anyway. This close to Area 51, there had to be something more interesting than-

"Gabriel Shurley," a deep voice behind him deadpanned. "No need to worry. We're friends of your father's colleague. May we speak with you for a second?"

"Sure," Gabriel said reluctantly, holding his hands out. "Hit me with your best shot."

"For your convenience, we will say this as simply as possible," one said, folding his hands behind his back. "We need locations."

"Of what?" Gabe asked, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he had held.

"Cryptids," The other said with the smallest motion of a shrug. "As well as aliens, or any other creatures you and Sam Winchester happen to come across. If you _do_ end up finding anything, that is."

"Okay," he hesitated. "Why should I?"

"If you put these creatures out there for the world, more people will want to find them. Therefore, disturbing their habitat, and way of life," the first one stated. "Our plan is to get to them first."

"What would you do with them if we even find any? Throw them in a petting zoo? They're wild animals." Gabe cautioned. "You can’t control them. I doubt that they want to be held captive because of some-"

"That’s our point, Gabriel," the other interrupted. "They aren’t held captive. They are safe. We relocate them and track them. They’ll be out of reach from the savagery of the human race. You did hear about Tessie, didn’t you?”

Gabriel’s heart stopped as he turned away from the two agents. “It was actually her?”

“Unfortunately. Beautiful specimen, though. Wasn’t she?” The first one spoke again. “We know the real reason why you accepted this, Gabriel. All we want to do is help you and your family. With any means necessary.”

“What do I get out of this?” he asked, voice cracking.

“Is the safety of your family not enough for you?”

“No,” he finally turned, glaring up at the two of them. “It isn’t.”

“We'll deposit five thousand dollars into your account for every creature you find.”

“Aim a little higher.”

“Anything you wish.”

“I want to go home,” Gabriel breathed. “That’s all I’ve wanted. I’m not gonna complain about the money because anything helps. I just-”

“We’ll purchase you a ticket,” the agent said, pulling out a tablet and typing into it. “As soon as this expedition ends. You’re free to go. And, we’ll make sure you get your land back too.”

“Good…” Gabriel faltered. “What about Sam? Is he getting anything?”

“The adventure of a lifetime. He doesn’t wish for anything else,” the other spoke. “Besides, we know he wouldn’t comply.”

"He’s the one who’s finding them,” Gabe countered. “The kid’s putting his everything into this. I’m pretty sure he almost had an asthma attack on the way in, and we haven’t even done anything yet. He’s dirt broke and already said he’d give me what we didn’t use.”

“We’re giving you more than you wanted already.”

“I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about Sam,” he objected. “He needs all the help he can get.”

“Fine,” the first one tucked away his tablet. “You don’t breathe a word of this to him because we know he won’t follow through. You get a bonus of one thousand tonight, and we cover his student loans.”

“Kiddo’s got a full ride,” Gabe said with a shrug. “My dad told me that.”

“He hasn’t for the last two years. His full ride was for law school, which he didn’t complete. And no matter what you do, Stanford is terribly expensive.” The other one stuck out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

He hesitated, staring at the hand for another moment. “Deal,” Gabe said, gripping and shaking fiercely.

“Good. Your next stop will be San Quintin.” The first said, pulling his hand away. “There was a sighting of Chupacabra just a few hours ago. The press has yet to report on it. So, you two can trot on down there and find us our Goat Sucker.”

“I don’t do itinerary,” Gabriel insisted. “Sam does.”

“You don’t think we already made sure he knows?” The first adjusted his glasses and blazer before looking at the other. “Trust us, he knows and is rushing your car back here as we speak to tell you the good news. We’ll be back in three months.”

Gabriel watched as the two of them left, leaving an eerie feeling in the motel. He looked around, only the woman who had helped earlier was staring. The other occupants didn’t seem to notice the altercation at all. He busied himself with the assorted knick knacks that Little A’Le’Inn had to offer. He grabbed two large t-shirts, a handful of stickers, and a coffee mug shaped like the head of an alien. As he went to the front desk to pay for them, the door swung open. A bell welcoming the presence.

“Gabe!” Sam said excitedly, rushing over to him. “So get this. Chupacabra sighting in Mexico. San Quintin, Baja California. That’s not even a day's drive. I have been wanting to find this thing my entire life. Do you have your passport with you?”

His excitement was almost nauseating. His eyes were wide and he hadn’t stopped moving since he bounded through the doors. He was hunched over, as if he was trying to meet Gabe in the eye in hopes to convince him.

“Hell yeah, I do!” Gabe said, forcing himself to sound as ecstatic as Sam was. “I’ve spent my fair share of spring breaks ‘cross the border. We can get a few tequila shots while we visit, maybe I show you some of my favorite spots. I got you a t-shirt and a few stickers as a memento. Which one do you think would look best on the dashboard? ET highway, Area 51 warning, or peace sign alien?”

“Oh, Area 51, definitely.” Sam agreed as he picked up the stickers and began to fan through them. For a moment, he was quiet. Focusing solely on the pictures and which one would truly be the best. “Gabe?”

“Yeah, Sam-a-lam?” Gabe responded as he grabbed the rest of his purchase.

“Thanks, by the way,” Sam hummed, still looking down at the stickers. “Usually people call me crazy by now. Plus, you haven’t asked me if it was my special interest or something. And that means a lot. So, just thanks. Even if this one is just a hoax, it means the world to me.”

“No problem, Kiddo.” Gabriel said after a beat. Already at a loss for much more to say than that. “We should get going, shouldn’t we? Wouldn’t want to miss out.”


	3. Gets my Goat

Sam thought he would just sleep through the border crossing. He had spent the last six hours driving and only gave up the wheel after Gabriel insisted. He hadn’t slept in at least twenty-four hours and yet, he couldn’t let his eyes close.

He just couldn’t sleep while crossing into another country. They didn’t have anything on the bus, other than a wrapper or two. Maybe there was something tucked underneath the bed that nobody had caught before they even left. The one time he met Chuck, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he dabbled with a few recreationals. But for them, that could mean the end of everything he wanted.

He took a deep breath and leaned deeper into the seat, letting his head hang back over the neck rest and against the partition. 

Gabriel tapped a beat on the steering wheel and hummed a version of 100 bottles of beer. Sam was almost certain he had made it into the negative numbers an hour ago.

“How many?” Sam managed, knowing the rest of his words wouldn’t have come out coherently anyway.

“I think it’s past your nap time, kiddo,” Gabe said looking over at Sam. He was in a similar position but was instead leaning against the window. Apparently unphased by the scorching hot glass pressed up to his face.

“Just answer.”

Gabe moved his head just enough to look out over the car in front of them to be met with the same agonizing line that Sam had been staring at for the last ten minutes. Contemplating if finding the Chupacabra was really worth it.

“At least seven.” Gabe quips. “And you can’t tell me I’m wrong. Because it’s true.”

“Try something more realistic,” Sam slurred, rubbing his hands over his face in an attempt to at least be slightly more coherent than he was. “Twenty?”

“Fifteen,” He said with a shrug. “At least. No need to be dramatic, princess.”

“If all else fails, we can just set up shop in Tijuana.” Sam hummed. “We’d be a few hours out from the siting, I just don’t think I want to be in this damn bus anymore.”

“It shouldn’t take this long,” Gabriel said, suddenly sitting up. “I came here for my eighteenth. Getting in was the easy part.”

“So what happened?”

They both jumped at a sudden noise coming from the right of them. A camper pulled up beside them, making motions to roll down the window. Gabriel and Sam shared a worried glance before he rolled the window down. Albeit, hesitantly.

“Awesome V-dub!” A man with shaggy brown hair hanging in curls in front of his eyes shouted out at them. “Does the beauty have a name?”

Sam opened his mouth to respond but was cut off immediately by Gabe. “It’s Scully. Yours?”

“Clara,” He said with a wide smile. “What brings you to Mexico? It’s not really good surf season. But you don’t really look the type.”

“You’ll think we’re crazy.” Sam said, dismissively.

“You here for the Chupacabra?”

Sam felt his heart skip a beat. “What?”

“Tons of people came rushing. I’m just driving down to Peru for the road trip of a lifetime. But you? You’re here for the monsters.”

“How did you know about that?” Gabe asked.

The man scoffed. “Doesn’t everybody? At least where I’m from it was all over the news. A shit ton of cryptids are just popping up out of nowhere. Tessie in Nor Cal, that Oklahoma Octopus, a few others I didn’t even know were things. All of them dead. Surprised Mothman didn’t show up to warn the masses, am I right?” When both only responded with blank stares, he decided to continue. “Either way, a bunch of random people have been trying to get in for days. Some of them taking random crap out with them. You’d be better off walking through.”

The car behind him honked, and he just waved in response before saluting the two and driving forward a car’s length.

Sam wasn’t entirely sure what to say. Gabriel, on the other hand, had too much to say. He tripped over his words, trying to find a sentence. Something that Sam wasn’t even entirely sure Gabe was capable of.

“We  _ should _ walk,” Sam said, breaking Gabriel’s train of stuttering

“Walk?” Gabe repeated, unbelieving. “You’re gonna follow his advice? Crazy surfer we just met seconds ago?”

Sam shrugged. “It’s not a bad idea. We need to get there first. To do that, we need to take risks. I thought you understood that.”

“I do,” Gabe sighed. “I’m just starting to think the sleep deprivation is getting to your head.”

“Like he said, we just walk over, do what we need to do, then walk back,” He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached around to push the partition away. “Is there anything we really need?”

“You’re not leaving Scully here!”

“You weren’t joking?” Sam paused. “You really named this bus Scully?”

“She was always named Scully. Anna hated it, which is why I chose it.”

He sighed. “No. We’re not leaving it-Scully. Not here at least. We can find a place to park in San Ysidro, then walk right over.”

“I’m not walking,” Gabe insisted.

“Fine,” Sam reached into the back and grabbed a duffel bag full of clothes and toiletries. “I’ll see you there.”

“Sam,” he said with a warning tone.

“What?” He asked. “I told you, I’m not kidding. Hell, this is even better. You drive through, and I’ll just meet up with you later.”

“I’m not letting you do that alone.”

“Why not?” he asked, pushing the door open and climbing out. “I’ve done this before.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“You met me last week.” He scoffed. “Just drive, okay? I’m a big boy, I can handle myself.”

Gabriel didn’t respond. He just stared. It felt like his eyes were burning through Sam’s body. Despite that, he stood his ground and continued to grab random necessities that he would need.

“It’s going to take longer,” Gabriel stated. “You’re better off in the car. At least then, you won’t die of heat stroke or collapse on the side of the road because you haven’t slept.”

“See you on the other side, Gabe.” Sam muttered as he pulled the door of the van open and climbed out.

The walk was shorter than expected. Sam just used it to clear his mind, enjoy the area, and figure out what the hell he was really getting himself into. Of course, it was what he wanted his whole life. Yet, he couldn’t help but think it wasn’t a good idea. Of course, that could have just been the nerves talking as he forced his way through the revolving steel spires jutting out, disguising themselves as a revolving door. Nobody seemed as worried as he did, though. They continued walking through, making the occasional joke or comment about the scenery as they walked. And walked. And walked. He knew it would be long, the drive was just as bad. The only difference was that foot traffic happened to move a faster than usual.

Sam sped up slightly, just enough to get out onto the bridge and see the lines of cars down below. If he and Gabe thought getting in was bad, getting out looked unbearable. The exit lane stretched at least a block, while the opposite side of the entrance had the occasional car driving through. Before he made it all the way over, he spotted the bus. The windows had been rolled down and Sam was certain he could see Gabe tapping repeatedly on his cell phone screen. That, or simply just pressing buttons to entertain himself. He thought about trying to get Gabe’s attention, but knew it would be in vain. With the roar of engines and hundreds of voices, he could barely hear himself think. Much less get someone else to see him.

He continued on, making it to a village right off the exit. Him as well as hundreds of other tourists were greeted with an overwhelming amount of assorted straw markets. Each one with a more eccentric seller than the last.

Sam wasted some time while waiting for Gabriel to show up. Hoping that he had at least made some leeway from when he last saw him. He managed to distract himself with the overwhelming colors as well as the heat of the market. Each vendor was selling something similar. Mostly t-shirts and hats, with them yelling at possible buyers. Insisting that what they had at their stand was ten times better, as well as ten times cheaper. Sam bounced back and forth from vendor to vendor. Enjoying the energy of the area before he saw his bus roll up on one of the side roads, with Gabriel practically hanging out of it.

“What the hell took you so long?” Sam joked, sauntering towards the camper.

“Assholes like you jumping out of their cars and taking the pedestrian route,” Gabe answered with a huff. “Apparently prophet pothead was delivering the good news to every car he stopped near.”

“Well,” Sam leaned against the bus, folding his arms over his chest. “It was faster. And I got a great view of you refreshing twitter.”

“Isn’t that mop gonna bother you?” Gabe asked, reaching out the window to ruffle his hair. “I would have shaved it off by now.”

Sam opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by an older woman’s voice.

“ Ayúdeme! Ayuda por favor!  Necesito boletos!”

“How well do you know Spanish?” Sam asked, turning his attention to the woman.

“Enough to get what she’s saying,” Gabe said with a shrug. “She wants help getting tickets for the bus back. My guess is back to San Ysidro. Why?”

“She looks kind of freaked out, don’t you think?”

“Why does that matter?”

“We can help her,” Sam shrugs. “Maybe she could help us with what we’re looking for two.”

“Oh yeah, because all of Mexico is buzzing about a Chupacabra sighting.”

“All I’m saying is that she may know something.” Sam pushed himself off the bus. “You coming?”

“You’ve gotta stop asking me that, Sam-a-lam.” Gabe sighed before climbing out of the bus and slamming the door behind him.

They crossed the market to the woman and Gabriel got her attention before asking. “¿Podemos ayudar?”

She took one look at them before speaking a broken English. “I’m trying to leave. My daughter is in America and I can’t be here any longer.” Her gray hair was pulled into a low bun and she wore a colorful skirt paired with a dark polo.

“Why can’t you be here any longer?” Sam questioned.

“The creature on news,” she threw her hands up. “They are close to my house. My village does not believe. They say I’m crazy. I’m not crazy. I will stay with my daughter in America.”

Sam looked over at Gabriel and mouthed the words: “I told you so.”

Gabe ignored him and continued talking to the woman. “We’ll cover the ticket. But the big guy is a bit more excited about the creature.”

She looked between the both of them and shook her head. “It is near my house. You can stay there and get rid of it so I can come back when I want to.”

“Yes ma'am,” Gabriel said with a nod before pulling out his wallet and digging through it before pulling out an American twenty-dollar bill. “That should cover everything.”

She thanked them and gave them directions to the village. “Don’t break my house. I want it to be perfect when I come back.”

The house was larger than Sam expected. Set in the middle of a coastal town in what felt to be the middle of nowhere. Yet, a little down the road you could see a densely packed restaurant and hotel. It laid low to the ground, sandstone blending in with the rest of the surroundings. A bright orange roof slightly slanted sat on top, underneath it looked to be a layer of tin for insulation. The inside was homey. A brick arch welcoming them into the living room connected to a kitchen with older amenities. The floor was cold concrete and the walls were a warm beige with darker water stains closer to the ceiling. The decoration aged the place about another twenty years. Brightly colored, slightly warm couches were pressed against the walls with a large box TV hooked up into the wall, balanced on a folded magazine and the table top. Dark brown cabinets clung to the walls sturdily while matching cupboards sat underneath them. With the mix of older tools came a plug-in air conditioner, a microwave, as well as a Commodore 64.

The three other bedrooms were decorated similarly. Each one housing one full sized bed as well as an extra set of sheets in the drawers. Windows acted as headboards that looked out onto the ocean that was a few blocks away. The sight only blocked by Scully positioned out front, reflecting the sunlight and glaring onto the window. One of the rooms had a larger wardrobe in it, still containing a few clothes. Sam assumed that was the master bedroom that belonged to the woman who was staying there.

Then there were the bathrooms. They hadn’t been in the bus that long since their last stop, but he couldn’t deny hot running water in any case. Whether it had been a day or months since his last shower he would have felt giddy just seeing that it was there. Actually there for him to use without complaints. He figured the hot water would cut out eventually, but that was to be expected. A cold shower wouldn’t be the worst considering the blistering sun that was outside. He would have been content with a tent and a fan. So, seeing the house, Sam was ecstatic.

He immediately claimed the bedroom with a view of the beach and set up shop. He didn’t bother unpacking his clothes, not sure when or how fast they would need to leave. But, he did make himself comfortable. Changing into looser fitting sweat pants and a t-shirt after a long shower. It wasn’t until he was beginning to make them a dinner that he remembered he hadn’t slept.

Lucky for him, Gabriel remembered a lot sooner. Less lucky for him, Sam was stubborn.

“It’s been twenty hours since you last slept, hot shot.” Gabe mocked, looking down at a fake watch. “Shouldn’t you be crashing by now?”

Sam shrugged, not bothering to look over his shoulder at Gabe from the stove. He continued mixing the boiling pasta noodles that they had picked up at a stop early on.

“I feel fantastic.”

“Well you don’t look it,” Gabe quipped. “Your eye bags have eye bags.”

“Your point?” Sam asked, glancing behind him to see Gabe sitting at the dining table with his head supported by his hands. 

“My point is if you cook those any longer, you’ll burn the house down.” He stood up from the chair and made his way over to the stove before taking the wooden spoon and turning the heat down. 

“I would’ve figured it out,” Sam argued as he snatched the spoon back.

“Maybe you should leave the cooking to me, cranky pants. Wouldn’t want to get your hair mixed in the pasta anyway.”

Sam rolled his eyes before pulling a rubber band that he had around his wrist and pulled his hair into a half ponytail, getting the bangs out of his face. After he did it and went back to stirring, Gabriel didn’t say anything.

Sam sighed. “What am I doing wrong now?”

“I didn’t say anything this time.”

“No, but you’re staring.”

“Well, there’s nothing wrong,” Gabe countered. “I just think you would look hotter in pigtails is all.”

“You know what,” Sam said after a moment, handing the spoon off to Gabriel. “You’re right. I’m overtired. Wake me up when it’s done, okay? We’ll sleep tonight and then actually focus on asking around tomorrow.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Gabe asked, genuinely concerned. 

“No, you’re fine.” Sam insisted. “Trust me, I’m just tired. You were right.”

“Are you PMSing?” Gabe teased. “Or are you just getting tired of me?”

Sam shook his head. “Half of me wants to strangle you.”

“And the other half?”

“Hasn’t figured that out yet.”

“Any ideas on it at least?”

“Absolutely not.” He waved him off. “I’m going to sleep. Do whatever you want.”

Sam enjoyed silence. He really did. What bothered him was the silence that was filling the house when he knew there was someone on the wall opposite of him. Gabriel did give him what he wanted. Some space, some breathing room, some time to consider whatever it was that they finally got into.

He rubbed his hands over his eyes as his back sank into the bed, softened with age. Realistically, he was enjoying himself. Truly, every single second was living his dream. But why the hell did just existing in the same space as someone else make his throat feel like it’s closing up and his palms begin to sweat. Earlier, he had blamed the expectations of the trip. Giving a twenty-four-year-old one thousand dollars and telling him to bring ten times that back was stupid. Why the hell did he think any of this work? Hell, he didn’t even make a good enough map for where they were going to go. He wasn’t even going to even take a step outside the state, much less the fucking country.

Sam reached for his phone on the nightstand beside him and stared at the smooth glass. He unintentionally caught sight of his reflection and saw how bad he really looked. It may have only been a day since his last shower, but being in a car for sixteen hours in a sweltering, dry heat definitely made running water more necessary than he thought it had been. Then, of course, there were the dark circles that began to sneak their way under his eyes. 

Sam slid a finger across the screen and the light practically blinded him. The charge was low, and roaming was expensive, but one call would be worth it.

“What’s up?” His brother’s response was in a rushed, low whisper.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, great. You just called at a weird time.”

“What are you doing?”

“Can you call me back?”

“I’m thinking about dropping the expedition.”

“No, you aren’t.” There was a shuffling noise and the closing of a door before Dean spoke again. “You’re joking.”

“What the hell was that about?”

“Cas just got news about a family thing and he’s staying with me for a little. The poor guy was messed up, something about a close cousin or something.” Dean sighed. “Why do you want to drop? You’ve been looking forward to this your whole life.”

“I don’t know. I just can’t do it.” Sam admitted. “I never thought I’d get this far, Dean.”

“It’s been four days.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I don’t think I can do this. I’m already going crazy after four days how the hell do you think I’ll be in four months?”

“Just take a deep breath,” Sam did as his brother said. “Tell me in detail why you’re going crazy four days in.”

“Details, I can do details. Trust me I already made a list.” He took another deep breath. “The bus already broke down once and I know I wouldn’t have been able to fix it if Gabe and I hadn’t found anybody at the motel we were staying in. I left Gabe to cross the border by himself because I couldn’t be in the car for another minute. And it just hit me that he’s the first person I’ve needed to genuinely be with 24/7 since you and I were kids. I can’t stand him.”

“I was pretty sure you wanted to bang him as soon as you locked eyes. Was he not good or-”

“God, no Dean!” Sam huffed. “I mean, he’s good from a distance but getting to know him is kinda ruining it for me.”

“Getting to know him?” Dean repeated in disbelief. “What do you know about him?”

“I know he’s estranged from his dad-”

“So are you. Wow, already something in common.”

“-his favorite movie stars Seth Rogen and…” Sam stopped himself, unsure what else to say. “And he’s a jerk.”

“Wanna explain?”

“Because he just is!” Sam insisted, raising his voice. “He won’t tell me anything about his life, he’s just there making shitty jokes and I hate myself because I laugh at them.”

“Kinda sounds like the only dickish thing he did was steal your heart.”

“Never say that again.”

“Yeah, I know. I made myself sick just saying it.” Dean laughed. “But I’m serious. Keep talking about him.”

“And he’s kind of caring in a weird way. Like not letting me drive more than I really should even though he’s been awake as long as I have. Plus he’s cooking dinner right now and I’m sure it's going to be ten times better than what I was going to do.”

“Other than that, you don’t know the guy?”

“No,” Sam hummed. “I don’t. Which is why I can’t stay in a car with him for the next six months. I can’t focus when I’m with him, I’m going to run out of time. No one will believe me if I find anything.”

“If he’s willing to help, Sammy, let him do it. Maybe play a game of two truths and a lie, or be the asshole who prompts twenty questions. Get him to say something about himself. You have time to waste. Try enjoying the trip of a lifetime. Cas is waking up, Sam. I have to go.”

Gabriel called Sam from the other room in a sing-songy tone as if he had forgotten Sam had just stormed away minutes before. “Yeah, I have to go too. Goodnight, Jerk.”

“Night, Bitch.”

Gabe poured the pasta onto two plates and slid one across the table once he saw Sam emerge from his claimed bedroom. “Welcome to Shurley’s snacks where you work with what you can get.” He spoke in an over-exaggerated French accent as he spun around the room. “Tonight’s dish is bowtie noodles A la… le sel. Et le Poivre…”

“Salt and pepper?” Sam asked as he sat down at the table, looking over the dish.

“Don’t mock the cuisine, Samsquatch.” Gabe sat on the table, his feet hanging off as he grabbed his own plate and two plastic forks. “Like I said, it’s what we’re working with.”

“I wasn’t mocking,” Sam countered. “This is basically all that I eat at home anyway. That and chicken flavored ramen noodles.”

“Wow, a true college boy.” Gabe stuffed as many bowtie noodles in his mouth as he could. “We should’ve had that for dinner.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“You seem cheerier,” Gabe swallowed. “Or as cheery as Sam Winchester can get. When not drunk. Did you take a nap like I told you to, kiddo?”

“No.”

“You can only do so much while being sleep deprived. What’s it been? Thirty-six hours?”

“About that yeah,” Sam sighed and set his fork to the side. “I want to apologize.”

“For what?”

“Being a controlling and whiny asshole.”

“You weren’t really being controlling. Not yet anyway.” Gabe said with a shrug. “Whiny I just thought was a package deal with the age.”

“The age?”

“Yeah. What are you? Like early twenties?”

“I’m twenty-four.” Sam scoffed. “What does whiny have to do with the twenties?”

“See? You’re just getting out of that entitled early twenties stage. You’re like an infant to me.”

“And how old are you?”

“Somewhere between the ages of twenty and five thousand.” Gabe quipped before being interrupted by his phone vibrating. He dug it out of his pocket and checked to see that he received a text message.

_ Chupacabra? You’re on a time limit Gabriel where the hell is it? _

“Who is it?” Sam asked as he took a bite of the pasta, only lifting his head in the slightest in an attempt to see the screen. With the little high ground that Gabe had, he switched the phone to his other hand and tossed it further down the counter.

“It’s nobody.”

“You risked shattering your phone for nobody?”

“Case is lifeproof.”

“And now that I think about it,” Sam hummed after a moment of still silence between the two. He leaned forward in his seat, using his elbows to balance himself on the table. “You should apologize for being so fucking cryptic and mysterious.”

“I thought you liked cryptic and mysterious. That’s why we’re here, right?” He smirked.

“If we have to live together for the next six months, we should make some house rules.” Sam said suddenly. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Gabriel’s phone interrupted once more. This time with the noise of the vibrating phone hammering against the counter, accompanied by the chorus of Perfect Illusion.

For a dreadful moment, the two of them just stared at the phone across from them. Gabe only spared a glance at Sam to try and read what the kid was planning to do. The idea of snatching his phone and booking it was way too evidently scrawled across his tightly knit eyebrows and scrunched up nose as he slouched more into his arms on the table.

“Shouldn’t you pick that up?” Sam asked instead, not looking away from the phone.

“It’s probably just Chuck,” Gabe insisted. “He was the one who just texted me. Butt dials usually follow suit.”

“Rule number one,” Sam grumbled. “No more secrets. At least not small stupid ones.”

“Seriously?” Gabe asked.

Sam just shrugged. “Close quarters for six months. If things turn sideways because of something the other didn’t tell us, then it could ruin everything.”

“It  _ was _ Chuck.” Gabe claimed. “Do I at least get to make rules too?”

“Go for it.”

“Rule two is an amendment to your first one.” He countered. “If the secret is for the safety of the other than the secret stays.”

“I’m willing. Rule number three, no sleeping together.”

“Wow, my feelings are a little hurt, Samsquatch. Didn’t you think I was hot when we first met?” Gabe teased.

“We need boundaries.” He continued. “Out of convenience more than anything. I could be distracted by you and then get killed. Romance is like that.”

“Zero to one hundred, Sammy. And who the hell said sex needs to be romantic?”

“Sometimes people get attached.”

“Let me guess, by sometimes you mean always and by people you mean you?” Gabe questioned, pointing an accusing finger at Sam.

“Shut up.” Sam rolled his eyes. 

“You didn’t answer, Sam. That one, and the one about you thinking I’m cute.”

“I’m getting to know you and the attraction is kinda fading,” he hummed. Gabe’s smile almost wavered.

“Got it.” He cleared his throat. “I personally think you’re sex on legs, but will keep the unholy thoughts to me and my left hand.”

“Are you done?”

“Can I get one more in?”

“Fine.”

“I stand by the pigtail comment.”

“Of course you do.” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. “Anything else you want to add?”

“No abandoning.” Gabe said easily. “I’m not the biggest fan of being left for dead.”

“We were in a hotel. You handled yourself.”

“I wasn’t being petty, Sam-a-lam. You would know if I was,” Gabe proposed as he jumped off of the counter. “And in honor of the newfound stick together rule I think we should sleep in Scully tonight.”

“Why would we do that?” Sam asked, finally sitting up once more.

Gabe shrugged. “I’m not the biggest fan of staying in houses like this.” He motioned around the kitchen. “Too homey. I’m more of a wide open space and seeing the stars kind of person. And by we I mean I’m going to and you can join the party if you want.”

“What about boundaries?”

“I never said we had to snuggle. I just don’t like sleeping alone is all.”

A small smile snuck up on Sam’s lips. “I guess I’ll see you in a few minutes then.”

Gabriel made his way outside only after Sam insisted he would handle the plates. The sky was beautiful, something that Gabe hadn’t seen so clearly in what felt like ages despite the fact that he was looking at the same sky the night before. He took a deep breath as he climbed into the back of Scully. For a moment, his hands hesitated at the door. Debating if he was even going to sleep or just watch the sky move above him. 

Another deep breath.

Another vibration from his back pocket.

_ You have nothing yet? Do you? What about that Winchester with you? _

He stared, unsure exactly how to answer.

_ <<What about him? _

_ >> How is he taking all of this. _

_ << We haven’t found anything. Nothing to take. _

_ >> And does he know about you? _

_ << Fuck no. And he’s not going to. _

_ >> Good. Keep it like that. Make him trust you. _

“That’s a little ominous,” Sam commented as he walked towards the kombi. “You, lit only from the bottom of your chin, sitting in the dark. All you need is a cat.”

“Classic, I like it.” Gabe said, tucking away the cell phone. Sam sat beside him, one leg hanging out of the bus, the other tucked underneath him. “What made you want to do this?” Gabe asked.

“Do what?”

“The whole cryptid hunting thing.” Sam only shrugged. Gabe watched the other’s movements, waiting for a response. When nothing happened, he spoke up again. “What? No backstory?”

“No, not really.” Sam said, shaking his head. “I already told you, I was kinda obsessed.”

“Kinda as in would willingly scar yourself with bigfoot’s shadow?”

“Kinda as in gave up pretty much everything to go on this trip.” He sighed, looking down at his own crossed legs. “My father didn’t think I’d ever get this far. And I am nothing if not a creature fueled by pure spite and maybe the littlest bit of wanderlust. Which reminds me.”

“Of?” Gabe asked, watching as Sam absentmindedly cracked his wrists, looking at nothing in particular.

“Why did you agree to come with me? And why haven’t you left yet?”

“I’m allowed to leave?”

“I’m sure you are. It’s not hard to buy a ticket and get the hell out of Dodge.”

Gabe didn’t need to look at the sky to watch the stars go by. Instead, he found himself watching the constellations in Sam’s irises. The text message was burned into the back of his eyes.

“What can I say, I’m a big fan of adventure. Hell, this is a once in a lifetime chance to see the shit we’ll be seeing. Might as well enjoy the ride. Right?”

Sam hummed in response before he grabbed one of the blankets tucked under the bed and crawled on top of the mattress, pulling it over himself.

“Going to sleep already?” Gabe mocked. “You’re shit at slumber parties, kiddo.” 

“Apparently I’m a pain in the ass when I haven’t slept. I’m trying to help you out.”

“I never said that.”

“No, but you were thinking it.”

“Goodnight, Sam.”

“G’night, Gabe.”

Hours turned into days, turned into what only felt like a week but probably sat at two.

Fourteen days and they had found nothing. They searched the area, followed every single lead from every person in the village who supposedly saw it only to land with a bucket full of nothing. Sam was getting aggravated, and Gabe was beginning to panic. Sam couldn’t quite tell why, but everytime he saw his partner in crime casually look at his phone, he could see the color drain out of his face. With Sam’s growing aggravation, came an onslaught of determination from Gabe. He kept poking and prodding him. Gabe even insisted on driving in a ten mile radius outside of the siting zone.

They were about to go through the exact same routine. Wake up, eat, drive around for five hours and interview anyone in their path, before arriving back at the kind woman’s house. Heads hanging low as they took turns guessing what the woman really saw, if anything, before returning to the Kombi to sleep.

As they walked through the door, they were instead met with more of the adventurer and hunter types. Motorcycles with stickers quoting lines from X-files, assorted campers, and another Volkswagen bus. When it wasn’t those they were dealing with, it was large Jeeps with men in matching camo. The village was bustling in the worst way possible.

“Looks like we have competition, Sammy.” Gabe commented, keeping his eyes on a pair of women. Both with long dark hair tied into almost identical ponytails

“There hasn’t been any more sightings. Not this close.” Sam chided. “No way in hell they're coming for the Chupacabra.”

“Unless our whistleblower was finally taken seriously after making her way to Cali.” He suggested with a shrug. “After the whole Tessie thing, everyone is on the lookout.”

“If I knew all this shit was going to be happening, I would have waited another year.”

“But now that you’re here, is that a risk you’re willing to take, kiddo?”

“God, no.” Sam huffed before looking back at Scully. “Think you’re up for checking out?”

A genuine smile crept up on Gabe’s face. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that. Bags are already packed.”

“Toss them in the bus, I’ll grab water and food. No idea how long we’ll be out there.”

Sam felt eyes lingering on him as he ran into the main area of village and collecting food. Surprisingly enough, he was only met with a few questions, all from the locals. They asked him about the overwhelming amount of “gringos” coming in and if Sam knew any of them. With the little bit of Spanish that he had perfected over the two weeks he said he didn’t know any of them but was as weary as his newfound companion, the store clerk. The other shop keepers were having the times of their lives, milking the Chupacabra front as much as they could. Selling small keychains of a black spiked dog with beady red eyes or blankets woven to supposedly lure the animal closer.

The storekeeper, Miguel, rolled his eyes. “I liked it better when it was quiet.” He spoke in heavily accented English.

“I did too,” Sam admitted. “But I didn’t get anything done then either.”

“What about your friend? Anything done with him?” Miguel smirked at Sam’s suddenly flushed ears.

“Did your wife tell you that?”

“My wife knows everything. Especially those eyes you make at him. She made the same eyes at me. Like she hated me with all her heart.”

“And yet?”

“Ten years my friend,” Miguel slapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Ten happy years. Happy and  _ quiet _ years. She was the one who told me of the American stampede.”

“What happened?” Sam asked. “And why the hell so suddenly?”

“More news about them coming up. It wasn’t just from Alejandra either.” The storekeeper shrugged, dropping his hand back down before digging around underneath the cash register. “This one was in Texas. One of your friends brought it in.” He tossed a newspaper on the table for Sam to look at it.

“Not all white people know each other, Miguel.”

“I never said they did. Two girls asked me to give this to you.”

Sam looked down at the newspaper. A large black and white picture of an animal's carcass spread across the page. Shaggy hair clung to its body with smaller white bald patches around the head. A pair of broken antlers sat beside it.  _ The headline read: Southern Cryptid No More; Ozark Howler found dead in Brewster County Texas. _

“You’re kidding.”

“That’s not the only one, either.” Miguel added. “I have a few more they wanted to show you, but some other  _ adventurers _ wanted to read them. I should have them back by noon.”

“Gabe and I will be gone by then,” Sam admitted. “We’re trying to get out of here as soon as possible. Hopefully, find el Chupacabra.”

“I’m guessing you don’t want my advice,” The storekeeper said with a sigh. “But I don’t think you’ll find it. Not with all that’s happening. But, I like you so I hope you do anyway.”

Sam forced a small smile. “Thanks for that.”

“I have a gift for you.” Miguel walked from behind the counter and rummaged through a small cooler he had beside it and pulled out a round flat bottle. “A gift from Northern Mexico, to you.”

“What is it?”

“Añejo Sotol.” He handed it off. “Like Tequila. A little more alcoholic.”

“Gracias.”

“De nada y Buena Suerte.”

Sam took the drinks and food before thanking Miguel one more time and heading back to Scully to meet Gabriel there waiting for him. They traveled in almost complete silence for hours, circling the village twice before going out further. It wasn’t until they were far enough to the point they couldn’t see any cities in front or behind them, that they came across something promising. Even if the promising thing was a goat's wool scattered in the middle of a street.

“Wait,” Sam stopped in his tracks after getting out of the car. Holding his arm out, causing Gabe to run into it. Stopping himself. “Do you see that?”

Gabe’s eyes tried to follow where Sam was pointing, to find a small animal shivering with claw marks across it’s back, hiding near a bush.

“Is that it?” he asked, looking up at Sam. “Because if it’s not all our work will swan dive. What about you and time?”

“It’s hurt,” Sam pleaded before crossing the dirt path and kneeling in front of it. “Do we have any spare water?”

“I don’t,” Gabe huffed. “You might, though. I’m not exactly the biggest fan of dehydration, so I would like to keep all that I have.”

“What happened to wanting to help?” Sam asked over his shoulder. He ripped the hem of his shirt just enough to switch the loose fabric from his hands to his teeth before ripping a good amount of it off. “I don’t need a lot, I swear.”

Gabe sighed and reluctantly crossed the road, pulling the almost empty canteen out of his pack. “If we die, I’m blaming you.”

“With good reason.” Sam said and poured some of the water onto the stip of cotton before gently wiping off the gashes on the creature. It flinched away from Sam for a moment, but relaxed when it saw Sam was aiding in getting rid of the pain. Even still, the creature remained almost rigid. Only occasionally licking at Sam’s fingers as he slowly wrapped the impromptu gauze around it.

“It kinda looks like-”

“I was starting to think the same thing, Samsquatch. Tread lightly.”

The creature wasn’t exactly the cutest thing. They learned it was a boy shortly afterwards. The small amount of hair that it had was a dark gray, spotting up around the ears and down the spine. Along the spine, as well as the hair, grew out almost sharp bones. Spike like peaks jutted out of the skin and ran up to the top of his head. Gabe had jokingly referred to the spiked as it’s little faux hawk. While insisting that punk isn’t dead and only made it’s way to the animals, Mr. Rocker clambered on it’s way. Sam watched for a moment, only half listening to what Gabe was saying, before the animal turned back and made yipping noises at them.

“I think he wants us to follow him,” Sam suggested, sparing a glance back at Gabriel.

“So you speak monster now?” Gabe implored. “What happens if he’s leading us to our deaths.”

“Then it’s a pretty fun way to go, don’t you think?” Sam asked. “If we’re right, and this is  _ it,  _ we get the bragging points in finding it first. Besides, if we die it’ll be in a blaze of glory.”

“Or our own intestines,” Gabe quipped with a shrug. “Whatever happens first.”

“Take this seriously.”

“This is me taking it seriously,” Gabe insisted. “Trust me, if I wasn’t you would be able to tell.”

After a few more moments of deliberation, as well as excited and pressing yips from the tiny supposed cryptid, they followed it. Hesitantly of course. Sam pulled out his phone, recording bits and pieces of the ten-minute trek before they came upon a small den. More yipping noises echoed from insides and the two watched as the small animal ran into the den. Sam took a step closer before he felt himself being pulled back with a force he wasn’t expecting from Gabe.

“You’re insane,” he insisted.

“You’re the one who's been telling me to go for it for the last week, Gabe.” Sam scoffed. “Well, this is me going for it. You can stand back here if you want.”

“If they tear your face off, don’t come crying to me.”

“Got it.” As soon as Gabe let go, Sam walked closer. His steps alerted the mother, he could see the silhouette of her head perk up. Before he knew it, there it was, walking just as slowly to Sam as he did to it.

_ La _ Chupacabra.

She was what Sam expected and more. The younger one looked almost nothing like her. The only similarities were the jutting bones, except hers seemed to have broke the skin years ago. Instead of the awkward nubs, sleek white bone stuck out and arched over her body. Her fur was barely there and instead was covered with a thin dark skin, small hairs sticking out. Large eyes bared into Sam’s soul.

Sam could only smile in return.

“Sam,” Gabe warned from behind him. “We need to go. Another car is coming. Get the proof so we can get out.”

Before Sam could get another word out, loud reviving of an engine broke the trance the creature was in. 

Her teeth bared and her shoulder blades arched, muscles rippling beneath the skin.

“Sam.” Gabe cautioned again. “Run.”

“I don’t have proof yet.”

“I’m sure you’re autopsy will be proof enough.” Gabe stepped forward and pulled Sam back before pushing him to run. The creature stalked after, giving the two a head start before chasing after.

Sam was positive he had never run that fast in his life. His legs were moving on their own, propelling him forward as he sped to get back to the bus, Gabe right besides him. Despite the absolute terror, he had never felt more free. Running for your life and the adrenalin pumping through your veins would do that to you. They made it to the bus and Gabe hopped into the driver’s side and sped off as soon as Sam got his foot in the door. He pulled himself in as the car sped forward and only then did he have the chance to slam the door. He checked the rearview mirror to see La Chupacabra staring off at them, the assumed stagnant bones standing up.

“Holy shit,” Sam chuckled, not taking his eyes away from the reflection in the mirror. “Holy fucking shit. We actually- I can’t believe. We almost-” Sam was hysterical. Instead of the freak out that he was expecting, all he could do was laugh. And laugh. And laugh to the point he could barely breath. He leaned forward in his seat, face turning red and snorting about the fact that he almost got torn to shreds by a legendary animal. And the worst thing about all of that, Gabe was laughing too. Not as hard, but the smile was there.

“You owe me,” Gabe said between laughs. “You owe me big time.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sam wiped away a small tear as he sat back up. “Oh my God, this has been the best day of my life.”

“Seriously?” Gabe asked, coming down from his high. “This is the best day ever? You need to get out more, kiddo. You didn’t even get the proof you wanted.”

Before Sam could answer, a small yipping interrupted him from the back seat. “You’re kidding.”

He turned and moved outside the makeshift partition made of spare blankets to see a tiny el Chupacabra staring back at him. Dark red eyes and a happy panting smile, the small spikes that were there moved slightly upwards.

“All the proof we need is right here.”

“Great, now mom is going to be hunting us down.”

“What the hell’s gotten into you, Gabe?” Sam asked, turning back around and leaning into Gabe’s space. “I’m serious. This is a win. Our first win and you’re just going to sulk about it? We should celebrate or something. Miguel gave me a bottle of Sotol we could try. Maybe we could stop somewhere, finally make the weird tension thing between us go away. Act like it’s an actual camping trip or something. C’mon, I want to get to know you.”

“Sounds great, but we’re kinda on a tight schedule, kiddo.”

Sam’s smile faded. “What do you mean.”

“Dad wants us somewhere else. We took too long in San Quintin.”

“If he had told me then I would have left. It’s his expedition. What did he tell you exactly?”

“That’s basically it.” Gabe mumbled. “Basically we need to get the hell out of Dodge for our own safety.”

“What was it, Gabe. Rule number two?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” Gabe spared a glance back at their new found pet. “Isn’t that right, Chewie?”

“Okay then,” Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair as the high fades off. “Any ideas on where we’re going?”

“How does New Mexico sound?”

“I guess I don’t really have a choice either way, do I?”

Gabe sighed. “I’m sorry, Sam. I really am. You’ll be able to pick next, I promise. And we’ll get all the celebrating we want in.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’ll try to be.”

 


	4. Wolf Pack

Sam was positive he felt another pair of eyes on him as they pulled into a Walmart parking lot in New Mexico. It was quieter in the car than it had been the last sixteen hours. There was no clock embedded into the front of the car, so Sam had to guess the time as a little past midnight. He turned the lights off and sat there for a moment. A new breathing pattern had joined due to Sam’s insistence. Chewie shuffled around in his sleep. The occasional growl or bark would break the silence, only for a moment, before Sam was once again surrounded by quiet. 

Gabriel had been in and out since they crossed the border. He would hold a random conversation with Sam for an hour tops, before falling asleep mid-sentence. Gabe had insisted he wanted to be in the back with Chewie so the animal would get used to it. It then occurred to him that Sam hadn’t really had the chance to experience the back more than a few late nights watching the stars go by with Gabriel. He knew there was storage as well as a lofted bed, leaving room for the rest of their things. Yet, early on Sam had elected to keep his things close to him at all times. It had been roughly a month since the expedition had started and Sam had yet to get comfortable in his new home. He still couldn’t find sleep while inside the bus thanks to all the noises with a side of paranoia about what it was they were looking for.

But he would swear to God that there was one more pair of eyes than usual.

He rubbed his palms into his eyes, trying to dissipate a migraine that was beginning to edge itself into the back of his skull. He was just imagining things. He had to be. If he was right about the time, then the paranoia could have come from lack of sleep. Again. It was like when they first crossed into Mexico. Maybe Gabe was right. Maybe Sam wasn’t the type of person who could go without sleep. A loud snore from Gabriel signaled that he wasn’t the best at staying awake either. 

Sam pulled the keys from the ignition, powering down the car. He got out of the driver's side and walked around the bus, stretching his arms over his head as he did so. The blue lights coming from the Walmart sign mocked the moonlight. He made his way around the bus to the swinging doors on the side and opened them as quietly as he could, as not to wake up Chewie or Gabe. Wooden panels were attached to the door with small hangers bolted down. A map of the United States was crudely drawn onto the ceiling with what looked like purple sharpie. Small posters of Pink Floyd albums, Sex Pistols, Led Zeppelin, and Blue Öyster Cult littered the interior walls. Along with those posters were stickers of the stereotypical green men. Some with peace signs, some were just the head. Others were ones that Sam was certain Gabriel had purchased while they were in Rachel. Embroidered patches had been glued down to the storage surfaces as well as what looked to be a shelf or counter. He didn’t have enough light to fully make out what they all said. One for certain was an okapi with the letters ICS. International Cryptozoology Society.

He smirked. It looked like Scully and Sam were meant to be. Other than the bus’ bad habit of failing at the worst times. Or maybe that made them more alike. 

Sam chose not to think too hard about it.

Gabriel stirred in his sleep, adjusting the taupe throw blanket he had wrapped himself in. He mumbled a question that Sam couldn’t exactly translate. 

“It’s just me.” He said instead. Gabriel seemed to calm instantly. “It’s about midnight. Maybe later. I was going to stop for the night, get a little rest. After that, we can get breakfast at a coffee shop or something and try and figure everything out.”

“Beautyrest, Sammy.” Gabe groaned before moving closer to the wall, leaving more room for Sam. He climbed in and laid down on the bed, surprised by how truly comfortable it was. He kicked his shoes off and managed to wrangle some of the blankets from Gabriel before turning the opposite way. The comfort of having another person so close to him made the other pair of eyes forgotten.

Gabriel didn’t listen to Sam ramble on as he practically drowned himself in his oversized cafe mocha. It wasn’t that ignoring him was purposeful, it was just that he was speaking of things he had already known. He couldn’t even bring himself to act as if he was interested. Sam didn’t seem to notice and continued talking. About what, Gabe wasn’t sure. He looked out the window to see Chewie, happily running around the circumference his leash would allow him around the pole. Nobody seemed to even register the creature's existence past odd looks from passer-bys. Probably just assuming he’s just a generally ugly dog. Which, wasn’t technically wrong. 

He took another sip and finally started registering what it was that Sam was saying.

“-Quintin. It’s not the most popular tourist attraction. And I get that a shit ton of people would want to look for it. But they’re pretty much endangering it. All they do is stomp around its home and dig through its crap and-”

“Isn’t that what we did?” Gabriel asked. Unsure what Sam was even trying to get across.

The younger man huffed before taking a sip of his own black coffee. “All I’m saying is that it couldn’t have just disappeared.”

“San Quintin?”

“The den,” Sam’s voice grumbled, coming out as a harsh whisper as he leaned in closer. “From what we figured out. Chupacabras fly solo no matter how young they are. Packs barely stay together, but they usually stay in close quarters. Especially with their young.”

Gabe swore into his cup before setting it down and pushing it away from himself, unable to will himself to finish. “So,” he started. “Mama Chewie is where exactly?”

“How the hell should I know?” Sam huffed. “We left her near the den, with the pups.”

“She abandoned Chewie where we found him. Maybe she's now going on a life long journey to find us and regain her honor.”

“Are you even taking this seriously?”

“You shouldn’t pair the dark roast with anxiety medication. You’ll trigger a heart murmur.” Gabe countered. 

Sam shook his head while heaving a heavy sigh before directing his attention to a couple across from them. A map was spread on the table while the woman was excitedly pointing to assorted points and the man just stared at her.

“It’s asthma, not anxiety.” Sam hummed, still not looking back at Gabe.

“To-may-to, To-mah-to.” Gabe articulated. 

_ Our plan is to get to them first. _

_ We know he won’t follow through. _

“So,” he continued, forcing the other voices out of his head. “Do you think they’re here for the Skinwalker too?”

“Yeah,” Sam sighed looking back at Gabriel. “I’m surprised more didn’t come around. People died this time.”

“How many?”

“Enough to get more people interested. Maybe we should just skip this one out. It’s less a cryptid, more a mythological Navajo… thing.” He waved his hand to the side. “It’s probably just some insane person who wanted to pick up more cash from tourism. I mean, Truth or Consequences? Really? What else does this place have except for hot springs?”

“That’s good news,” Gabe added, leaning in. “If all else fails, we should spend some time at one of those hot springs.”

“Are you really just using this as an excuse for the Great American Road Trip?”

“Isn't it already? Except ours is a little more exciting.” Gabriel said shrugging. “We have the time. We only spent, what? Two weeks in San Quintin and didn’t find anything until the last day.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sam sighed. “That doesn’t mean I have to believe it.”

“Of course not, Sasquatch.” Gabe nodded. “Do you at least have a plan?”

For a moment, Sam was quiet. He looked down at the stained placemats on the table, or back at the couple across from them debating over cryptids. Anywhere but Gabe. 

“I wish I did…” Sam muttered. “I didn’t choose this one, remember? I didn’t even know where the Skinwalker usually resided until last night. Hell, I still don't know what a skinwalker is supposed to look like. No lore is close enough to another.”

“Well, we’re here.” Gabe started, leaning forward over the table. “We waltz around Truth or Consequence, paint the town red. Just like dear old dad would want us to. Then when we don’t find anything-”

“If we don’t find anything.”

“-We go to Roswell.”

Sam paused, looking back at him. “Why Roswell?”

“You’re the encyclopedia of weird, I thought you would know.” Gabe laughed. “We’ll just make a date out of it then. I’ll take you to Roswell, then we watch Paul.”

“You’re still not over that?”

“I keep my promises, Sammy.”

“Okay, then. You’re on.” Sam reached for his coffee again and took another sip, staring out the window. “Quick question.”

“Possibly quick answer.”

“Did you feel anything weird last night?” He asked, eyes glued to something beyond Gabe. He turned around and looked out the window too, trying to see what Sam did.

“Other than little Sam. Not really”

Sam threw a perfected bitch face at him and all Gabe could do was chuckle. “Really, hot shot,” he continued. “No clue what you’re talking about. Sorry.”

“Like, eyes or something. I could have sworn-”

“Sworn what?”

“It was probably nothing.” He shook his head and directed his attention back to Gabe. “We were talking about Paul, right? Wanna give me a synopsis to pique my interest or something?”

“Uhm, sure.” Gabe hummed. “Well, it starts with these two guys in a truck looking for aliens in Nevada and - am I already losing you?”

Sam’s hand was gripped tight around the handle of his coffee mug, his knuckles turning white. His thoughts lost somewhere behind the window again.

“No,” he finally said, “no I’m listening. Two guys, Nevada, truck. Are you cool with us moving tables.”

“What’s got your panties in a twist all the sudden?”

“Looks like we may have some gum stuck to our shoe.”

Gabriel turned and looked outside once more, this time he saw two familiar women. Her dark hair was tied into a ponytail and she was rummaging through her backpack as she sat at one of the tables outside. Another woman joined her, holding two to-go coffee cups in her hands. The one holding the coffee caught Gabe’s eyes and winked at him before setting the cups down.

“Roswell,” Gabe said suddenly before snapping in front of Sam’s eyes. “Let’s go to Roswell. The museum tickets are cheaper earlier in the day so we might as well check that out right now.”

“Sounds good,” Sam locked eyes with Gabe. “But there’s just one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“One way in. We’d need to walk past. And the bus isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“No such thing, Sammy. I got this one.”

“Got this” was a relative term that Sam decided should never be trusted out of Gabriel’s mouth again. He should have stopped trusting those words in San Quintin, but he knew he still wouldn’t learn his lesson. Even after both made their way out of a back door through the kitchen, they still got more or less caught. Sam managed to get away and into the car, taking Chewie with him as Gabriel apparently distracted them. If, of course, distracting meant giving the one with a round face and dark eyes heart eyes while the other matched Sam’s own glare.

Maybe that look was just something people gained around Gabriel. 

But, his heart still would beat hard in his chest every time he looked at Gabe. No matter how many stupid jokes or nicknames. Not even with how close of quarters they had been in for the last three weeks. Maybe that was just a bad habit of Sam becoming obsessed with things he didn’t quite understand. 

To Sam, Gabe was practically the same as the cryptids they were looking for.

He forced the thought out of his mind as Gabriel approached the car. He was still wearing his pajamas, something that Sam hadn’t recognized before. Loose maroon sweatpants and what looked to be one of Sam’s Stanford t-shirts. The only way that Sam could really tell it was his was the word “Cardinals” written in with a dark red sharpie. Dean’s fault, Sam didn’t remember why.

Gabriel swung the passenger side open and climbed into the seat before slamming the door shut and pulling the psychedelic partition closed.

“How was the conversation with our tails?” Sam asked, starting the car and trying to stay casual.

“The only reason why they were looking was because Meg thought she recognized you.”

“First name basis already?”

“I’m sorry,” Gabe teased. “Are you jealous of my and Miss Masters conversation?”

“Of course not,” Sam cleared his throat. “Where are we going?”

Gabe smiled. “UFO museum. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we don’t have a tail this time.”

“Shut up.”

“No, your paranoia is endearing. In an ' _ I have to spend the next five months with crazy' _ sort of way.”

“You’re making me feel bad.”

“Just drive Samsquatch.”

Roswell was about the same as when Gabe had last seen it years ago. Between each city in New Mexico was an expanse of desert. When they did finally make it downtown, they were greeted with just about as much UFO and or alien merchandise that they expected. Downtown Roswell was scattered with blown up aliens and smaller storefronts with similar decorations. It wasn’t like there was much to do there anyway.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Meg was already there. Her and Ruby calmly sitting outside of wherever it was Sam and Gabe happen to stay. Sam would be paranoid, but maybe it was for the best that someone kept an eye on him. His actions were too immediate. He was too rash.

Or, at least that's what Ruby said about him. It began to occur to Gabe that maybe they all knew something about Sam that he didn’t. Which, wasn’t exactly hard. Gabe had spent almost every waking moment with the kid and the only thing he knew was that he’s asthmatic, had a brother, and was obsessed with cryptids. Literally obsessed.

The last one was only realized after Gabriel had been staring a little too hard at a small spot on Sam’s left wrist as he drove.

“White tattoo?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, confused by the sudden break in silence before he looked down at his wrist and back to the road. “Scarification, actually.”

“Of Bigfoot?

“Yeah, my dad let me get it when I was fourteen.”

“You’re kidding.”

Sam shook his head. “Let me is kind of relative. I couldn’t get a tattoo, much less the scars without actual parental permission. So he dropped me off, already drunk, and went to the bar down the street. Then Dean picked me up about four hours later.”

“No, I meant the Bigfoot part. Out of everything you could have-”

“Because I was a delusional eight-year-old who happened to have a special interest that carried on into adulthood.”

“You saw him, didn’t you?” Gabe asked.

“I told you, I was delusional. Bigfoot, of anything, is the least likely one to be real. I’d expect to see fairies before Bigfoot.” Sam’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I mean, realistically why the hell would a humanoid gorilla just be running around the Pacific Northwest or Nepal? The most plausible would be if a Neanderthal somehow made it through millions of years without evolving or dying.”

“So why haven’t you covered the scar?” Gabe asked.

“Just a reminder.”

“Is that all I’m getting from you.”

“Absolutely,” Sam hummed before slowing down to a stop as the lights turned red. For the most part, the city seemed abandoned. Cars were parked along the sides of the roads, but nobody really seemed to be out other than the occasional few pedestrians walking in and out of the CVS that clung to the corner surprisingly free of alien memorabilia. “Why should I tell you my life story if I don’t know yours.”

“You’re paranoid, kiddo,” Gabe said with a wave of his hand. “You know enough about me.”

“And you’re being secretive. Rule number one. You could be a murderer for all I know.”

“Do I really look like I could hurt anybody? Especially your godly, 6’4”, two hundred pounds of muscle self. Think about it for a second.”

“I’m not asking for an origin story, Gabriel. I just want to know the basics.”

He was quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say. Most people already assume so much about him from knowing his father, but he was beginning to believe Sam really did have no idea. Which made the paranoia a little less annoying and a bit sweeter. In a panic-inducing sort of way. 

“I was born in Russia. Chuck adopted me from this orphanage in Stalingrad on his “World Tour.” He said with hand quotation marks. For a moment, Sam’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Stalingrad?” He finally asked as Scully began moving again. “You sure about that?”

It was Gabe’s turn to be confused. “Pretty sure. I mean, I was there.”

“If you say so,” Sam hummed. “It’s just the book said it was in a field in the middle of nowhere and-”

“Shut up,” Gabe shoved Sam playfully. “You don’t really believe that shit do you?”

“Believing is kinda my thing, Gabe.” He pulled into a tight parallel parking spot in front of the museum.  “Anything you really want to see?”

The world felt faster whenever Sam was with Gabe. Whether it was because he was actually enjoying his time with him, or suddenly hyper-aware of the time that was being wasted, Sam wasn’t entirely sure. He pushed the panic out of his mind and forced himself to try and enjoy his day as Gabriel walked ahead of him, rambling on about the supposed spaceship crash decades ago. Despite that, there was something that stuck with Sam that he couldn’t quite shake. 

Stalingrad. 

Sam wasn’t exactly as interested in history as he once was, nor did he know too much about the World Wars because they never particularly interested him. But if he learned anything after multiple required history classes, Sam got the picture. Stalingrad wasn’t Stalingrad anymore. It had been Volgograd for years, but Gabe had seemed so insistent. It could be that he was adopted when he was young and it was Chuck who had gotten the name wrong, which would have been more understandable. Maybe Gabe was right about Sam’s paranoia. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself. He had a hunger to know everything there was to know and the fact that Gabriel didn’t feel comfortable enough with him to say anything made his heart almost ache. But, in retrospect, Gabriel hardly knew anything about Sam either.  

“We’ve lapped this place three times,” Sam finally found words that had been caught in his throat. “Any idea where you want to go next?”

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at Sam, then quickly directed his sights back to the supposed autopsy video of an alien. “Nowhere to go until we hear news about the walker?”

“The walker?” Sam scoffed. “Where the hell did you get that from?”

“It’s what Meg called it.” Gabriel hummed. “Maybe we head back to Scully, you get a little research on the thing and I try and learn some shit first hand.”

“You want us to split up?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds bad.”

“Because it is bad, Gabe.You could get hurt.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Like you did in San Quintin?”

“Like  _ you _ did in San Quintin. You were the one who pissed off the Chupacabra. I’m taking one for the team, keeping the brains in the car.”

“What happened to two hundred pounds of pure muscle?” Sam asked, leaning against a pillar and crossing his arms.

“No need to start posturing, Sammy. I just think I have a sort of  _ je ne sais quoi _ that people just can’t resist.”

“Is that just a nice way of you saying I’m not a people person?”

Gabe shrugged and turned towards him as the video looped. “I mean, you did spill your beer on me when we first met. Not exactly a good introduction.”

“But it worked,” Sam shrugged. “And you’re here.”

“I mean, I would’ve done it on my own, but I’m kinda on a leash here. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Well, I’m not forcing you to stay.”

“But everybody else is.” Gabe forced a tight lip smile before walking ahead of him.

“Who’s everybody else?”

“Does it really matter?” Gabe said with a shrug. “Just forget about what I said. But I’m serious about the splitting up thing.”

“Okay,” Sam admitted. “I’ll bite. But you need to tell me where you’re going.”

“Just interviewing. I was gonna head back to Truth or Consequence ask around. Probably drop you off at a library then find a place for us to stay for the night.”

"What exactly would you say you saw on the night of March 22nd?"

"Scary monster."

"Okay, that's... that's what I expected. Anything else? Maybe what the scary monster looked like."

"Very hairy."

"That's something."

"His arms were stringy too. Like the strings on the end of the rug."

"Got it, Kiddo. Anything else you want to add?"

"Red eyes."

"Is that him right there?"

"Mm-hmm." Gabriel leaned forward over the table to catch a clearer glimpse of what the young girl was drawing. Her pigtails hung low over her eyes and her tongue stuck out in concentration. She wasn't lying about the stringy arms. Or the fur. Or even the bright red eyes. But, that could easily just be an artist's interpretation.

"The stringy arms are a bit exaggerated." The child's mother hummed from beside her. "They were thin, hell you could see bone, but they weren't quite stringy."

"Yeah, I had the feeling," Gabe said, offering a sad smile. "But I was just gonna let her go with it."

"Thanks for that," the mother ruffled her daughter's hair gently. "She's taking this ten times better than I am."

"I can imagine. She didn't see the body, right?" The mother shook her head. "That might be why. She probably just thought it was a bad nightmare."

"I'm surprised grief counseling was offered here." She looked around the room. A small, secluded, corner of the library. Gabe moved so that he would be sitting cross-legged in front of the girl.

"It's a new feature. With everything, that's been happening at schools and practically everything these days." Gabe sighed. "The community has to give back somehow."

The woman reached for a spare pencil and began sketching out another picture next to her daughter's. Gabe managed to catch Sam busying himself with his laptop in the corner of his eye.

Gabe rolled his eyes, not surprised that Sam found a way to get them both in the library at the same time. He was impressed with how insistent Sam was on the whole, not separating thing. Every few minutes, they'd meet each other's eyes before going back to the project before them. Gabe's phone vibrated suddenly. He hesitated with checking for a moment, afraid of what would be there.

_ Sam _

_ >> Anything yet? _

Gabe let out a breath he hadn't realized he held.

_ Sam _

_ << Apparently the walker has stringy arms. Same on your side? _

Gabe looked up just in time to see Sam smile.

_ Sam _

_ >> Not quite stringy. Ask her about the fur _

"What about the fur?" Gabe asked, giving the two his attention once more. "Were you close enough for that?" The small girl shook her head and continued drawing, the mother, on the other hand, seemed more haunted. "I'm gonna take that as a yes?"

"It... It didn't have fur technically. More like, it took something else's. There was skin, but it was translucent until it got to its chest and arms."

"Hence the bones?"

She nodded. "The thing looked like it got to a wolf and skinned it before deciding it was a good fashion accessory."

"Did you see the body at all?"

"It was hard to look away. I mean, I had only known the guy for a few hours. He had just swung into town anyway. Real adventure-er type, you know?"

"Yeah, I have an idea."

"He said he was actually looking for that weird monster thing. But I  guess he had to be more specific with what he wanted."  

"Yeah, I guess so," Gabe said. Once the mother was no longer looking. He took his phone out once more.

_ Sam _

_ << It had skin. She said the fur was like it skinned an animal alive and wore it. _

_ >> That's what I was afraid of. _

_ >> She's back. _

Before Gabe had the chance to respond, he figured it out on his own. A pair of black combat boots and torn jeans sat down in the bean bag chair behind him. "Hope you don't mind me borrowing him for a little."

The mother hesitated before shaking her head and leading her daughter to a different corner and telling Gabriel to get them when he's done. Gabe met eyes with Sam for a moment before the younger walked over to talk to the small family. He only heard Sam say something about being a colleague before the other woman spoke again.

"So?" She asked, a smirk on her face. 

"So what?" Gabe asked back. "We talked a few hours ago, I don't have any progress."

"Nothing? You sure about that?"

"I'm positive, Meg."

"I don't think my boss will be the biggest fan of that," Meg sighed. "Think you can hurry it up a little."

"I still don't know who the hell your boss is."

"It's the same guy who's paying your way home, so it shouldn't really matter. Don't you think?" She began to absently pick at the stray strings on the bean bag chair. "Boss is keeping his word, why shouldn't you?"

"What word?"

"Chupacabra." She said with a shrug. "They're good now. After the whole mom chasing you down thing, she was pretty well known. We got to her and moved the den. We know that they’re real, and will be taken off the cryptid list with only a little fanfare."

"Finding them takes time. Remember, Sam is doing most of this."

"Yes, but he's being pretty boring about it, don't you think?" Meg asked, leaning forward on her elbows. "The whole cryptozoology thing is a dying art, you more than anyone know that."

"Don't be so loud."

"What? Scared Sammy will find out?" Meg teased. "Don't worry, short stack, he's too far up his own ass to hear much of anything other than his own thoughts. Plus, I think he’s a little jealous of me."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means Ruby tried to get to him and explain what's happening because she doesn't like the way I look at you." She shrugged. "Guy didn't listen and was to focused on finding them himself or with you. Nobody else required."

"And is that why Ruby isn't with you on this one?"

"She's still helping, but she'll just stick to being the brawn." Meg's smile was like a snake. She looked as if she would strike any second, but instead leaned back in the bean bag chair. "We're kindred spirits, Gabe. I'm in the same boat as you."

"How sure are you about that?"

"Pretty sure," She said with a shrug. "Except I can do whatever the hell I want without my father keeping a leash on me." She stood up and exaggerated in dusting herself off and straightening her leather jacket. "Pick up the pace, Gabriel. Maybe pick up your thing with Winchester too, it’ll help. Or else they’ll be another incident like the Ozark Howler."

“The what?” Gabe sputtered in disbelief as he watched Meg walk away. “What happened? What incident?” 

There were five minutes of aggravating silence of Gabe trying to collect his thought before an announcement went over the speakers.

“The Library is now closed. Please pick your books and check out.”

It was another two minutes after that when Sam walked into Gabe’s small corner. “What was that about?”

“Paul.”

“What?”

“The movie,” Gabe added quickly, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. “I don’t think it’s on Netflix. But I’m sure we could grab it from here and head out. It’s been out forever.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just excited is all,” He took a deep breath and forced a smile before standing up. “I still want to get movie night and hot springs in. Then we gotta crackdown in finding ourselves a Skinwalker. What did uh... The mom, what was her name? Anything else to add? Where she saw it maybe.”

“Natacha.”

“Nata-” Gabe stopped. “Seriously? I don’t remember her saying that.”

“Trust me, it is. She just told me. And all she said was at the park. Didn’t go into too much detail.”

“The real question is what the hell was she doing in the park that late anyway?”

“This is the same thing you did in San Quintin.” Sam connected. “You’re acting all weird, and  _ fast _ . ‘M not sure I’m the biggest fan.”

“You were the one who didn’t want to waste time, Sammy.”

“Yeah but, this is a lot. Don’t you think? Maybe we have to take our time on this one. I mean, trust me I’m excited. Hell, if we find this and it’s real then it’s a scientific anomaly.  We’ll get rich, maybe split a Nobel Prize.” Gabe wanted to think Sam was joking, but he couldn’t quite tell. “I just think this one needs to be taken a little more slowly. Take our time. You know?”

Gabe was quiet for a moment. “Don’t say my lines.” He said, shoving Sam playfully. “We start with the movie night. Then spend a night watching the stars in a hot spring. Maybe take a bunch of hipster pictures in front of that alien mural near the UFO museum-”

Late was relative in Sam’s mind. With the help of Gabriel beginning to hum show tunes of the 1930s and Chewie’s tired snores, he placed it around ten pm. That strange middle period where you feel your body shutting down for the night, but you know a second wind could easily come any second as well. Surprisingly enough to Sam, his second wind was actually starting to kick in. If only by the help of Gabe unironically singing Blow Gabriel Blow. 

“How many felonies do you have under your belt?” Gabe asked suddenly, interrupting his own rendition of Anything Goes.

“Weird question to ask,” Sam responded with a quirked eyebrow. “Maybe two, why?”

“What are they?”

“Nothing big, just jaywalking and breaking into private property.”

“How willing are you to bring up the latter tonight?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Gabe pointed towards a large sign reading:  _ Riverbend Hotel and Hot Springs _ . 

Sam scoffed. “Tickets are twelve dollars.”

“Yeah,” Gabe shrugged. “But they’re closed. We can get the fun night out of the way in one swing before getting to work. Free wi-fi, a nice hot spring. I show you mine if you show me yours.”

“Boundaries.”

“I never said it had to be a sex thing. It could be scars, origin stories. You know, boring stuff, other than Bigfoot on your forearm.”

“You’re gonna get me killed one day.”

“Probably,” Gabe said with a smile. “Likewise, Sammy. Now come on, we have a date night to attend.”

Sam felt his heart flutter in his chest despite all of the attempts to push every single thought about Gabriel out of his head for the last - what? Month maybe? It could be a year and he would already wish that maybe he toned down the asshole attitude, even though it was his expedition. His expedition that he was beginning to forget was the reason why they were in New Mexico sneaking into a four star resort at ten pm. Knowing that paying customers could just as easily still be sitting in the hot springs watching as two freeloaders who aren't even willing to pay twelve dollars because of how tight of a budget they're working on. And the worst part of all of it, Sam was enjoying it. Enjoying it more than he would admit to anyone.

Scully was parked as discreetly as a bright orange V-dub bus from the seventies could be. A small wooded area was good enough for them, and if they did get caught they would still be able to stay by. The gates were locked, but low enough to jump after checking what cameras were on them. Surprisingly enough, there was only one. Pointed directly into the window of one of the residents.

"Look at that," Gabe commented, pointing at the misdirected camera. "Peeping Tom saved the day."

"Keep your voice down," Sam whispered as he pulled his shirt over his head. "They could still have mics on them."

"No reason to. Especially if this guy just wants to get his-" Gabe stopped mid sentence as he turned to see Sam. His jaw dropped and eyes wide. "Jesus Christ."

A small smile snuck onto Sam's lips. "Didn't Professor Milton say you never brought up Christianity or something?"

"Odin wasn't really cutting it right now," Gabe stammered, waving a hand at Sam's bare torso. "I mean, you're practically doing it yourself."

"What am I doing myself?"

"Don't act so naive, you know goal number one for me was to get in your pants and I had this whole plan of making a candle lit dinner and watching Paul before I wow you with an assortment of cryptid facts and secrets about me."

"Isn't that what's happening tonight?"

"Well, now that you're making it so easy, I probably don't need to whip out the estimated height of the Fresno Nightcrawler."

"Four feet," Sam smiled and tossed his balled up t-shirt to Gabe. "Doesn't everybody know that?"

"You're a lot hotter when you don't have a stick up your ass."

"And you would be a lot hotter to me if I knew your middle name."

"How turned on would you be if I told you I don't have a middle name?"

"I wouldn't be because you're breaking rule number one."

"No lying?" Sam nodded. "How would you know if I had one or not?"

"I'd call your dad."

"For my middle name?"

"Why not?" Sam shrugged. "I have the guy's number and he hasn't checked in. I might as well drop it into a conversation. "Hi, Chuck, your son and I are in New Mexico looking for a Skinwalker. We have a pet Chupacabra by the way. Anyway, what's Gabe's middle name?" It's not like it's hard."

"You wouldn't want to bother him at night. Trust me, the guy's a monster."

"But I could still try." Sam shrugged, pulling out his best puppy dogs eyes and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Or you could just tell me."

"It's Noah."

"Gabriel Noah Shurley?" Gabe nodded. "See? It's not that hard. Mine's Adam."

"Samuel Adam Winchester?" Sam nodded. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Samuel Adam Winchester. Are we getting in the hot spring or not?" Gabe stuck out his hand to shake Sam's.

"You're shirts still on."

"This may come as a shock, Samsquatch. But, despite all this confidence, I'm practically dripping with, there are still a few body issues." He pointed at Sam. "Especially when I'm standing next to Thor over here."

"I'm no one to judge."

"Maybe, but I am."

"Just get in the damn water, Gabriel."

"Give me a second. I need to set up the laptop." He motioned to Sam's backpack and began to unpack the chords needed to make the whole set up work as Sam finished getting undressed and wading his way into the pool before putting his hair up in a bun. He watched as Gabriel plugged the laptop in and fiddled with the keys. After finally setting the movie up and it started, he undressed. First, the oversized sweatshirt was taken off, then the button up that he had dawned for the sole purpose of looking approachable and serious as a grief counselor. He pulled his jeans off, leaving him in nothing but a pair of novelty boxers with donuts scattered all over them before making it into the hot spring himself and very carefully putting the laptop on a dry rock.  

"You'll love it," Gabe insisted. "In a sort of this is the worst movie I've ever seen sort of way."

"That's usually not a good sign, Gabe." Sam insisted, getting far more distracted by Gabriel's silhouette against the backdrop of the Rio Grande at night. He was almost certain he had never seen that many stars despite seeing the exact same sky the week before in a place with the same or even less light pollution taking the place of galaxies.

And yet, he was simultaneously entranced with the image of two guys trying to get an alien back home in an old camper.

Fuck, Gabe was right. That is sort of what they were doing. All they needed was a friendly alien to return.

"Gabe," Sam hummed, still unable to take his eyes off of Gabriel.

"Shh, this is the best part." Gabe's eyes were sparkling in the little light that Putlocker's inability to make the video full screen without getting one hundred viruses offered.

"Yeah, I'm sure it is." Sam agreed before moving more into Gabe’s space. "Is it cool if I add an amendment to rule number three?"

"It depends on what it is," Gabe said, locking eyes with him.

"Kissing is okay." Sam breathed. "Because I really want to kiss you right now."

Even in the dark, Sam could see the small blush that was beginning to overtake Gabe's face, which was quickly covered with a smirk. 

"I mean, kissing was never out of the question, right?" Gabe asked. "It was just sleeping with each other. We're not sleeping with each other."

"Yeah. So it wouldn't even be breaking the rule. And sleeping together usually means a more than once thing. This could easily be something that happens once without even touching the rule."

"Not even coming close to it." Gabe agreed, nodding.

"Exactly. And we'll probably be too busy finding everything else anyway. We should be picking up the pace."

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying" Gabe agreed once more. "But, if we're multitasking with the movie, something that was always on the to-do list, then we're not wasting time."

"Look at that," Sam smiled. He felt like his eyes glazed over or he was having the worse case of tunnel vision ever. All he could see was Gabe's eyes and all he wanted was Gabe's lips on his immediately. "We're practically on the same wavelength."

"And to think, it only took three weeks and fifteen minutes into a shitty Seth Rogan movie."

"I thought you said you loved this movie."

"Trust me, I couldn't care less about that damn movie right now."

Sam was barely even processing what his body was doing. He watched as his arms pulled Gabriel into a deep kiss, his hands cupping the other's chin as he tilted him upward, bringing them as close as physically possible. He felt like his breath was being forced out of his body and sparks danced across wherever Gabe's hands landed. Chest, shoulders, thighs, hips, before pulling Sam into his lap. Their chests were pressed together, and Sam hadn't noticed it but Gabe managed to get the rubber band out of Sam's hair without noticing as his fingers managed to get tangled in his hair.   

“Get the fuck outta here!” They froze as the speakers mounted onto the side of the building kept shouting worse and worse things at them. 

“Son of a bitch,” Sam sighed, leaning his head down onto Gabe’s shoulder. “Guess there was audio.”

“The real question is where the hell was he when we first got in here.”

“My guess is that he finally finished.”

“Was it to us or whoever was in the room?”

“If you don’t get out in ten seconds I’m shooting both of you!” The man on the other side of the camera shouted.

“Definitely chick in room 22B.”

“We probably turned him off,” Gabe suggested.

“That’s unfortunate.” Sam smiled. “But really we should get the hell out of here.”

They rushed out of the hot spring, grabbed their clothes, and hopped the fence faster than the two of them thought they could. They made it into the tree line before they could even see the mystery peeping tom’s face.

Sam leaned up against the van, trying to catch his breath as Gabriel leaned next to him.

“You’re a really fun guy to run for your life with,” Sam said,  laughter still playing at his lips as he pulled his shirt over his head. “I mean, twice in less than a month. I can’t say I’ve ever done that with anybody else.”

“Well, if we’re ever about to get torn to shreds or shot at, I’m your guy.”

“I guess so,” Sam agreed. Both of their laughter was cut off as the sound of howling rang in both of their ears. “Do you think that was-”

“I hope it wasn’t.” Gabriel cut him off. “If it is we need to get the hell out of dodge. We aren’t really ring ready for a Navajo wolf thing that has a body count, Sam.”

“There’s still enough adrenalin,” Sam said with a shrug. “I think we could do it. If the thing’s in the area, then we can track it down, get all the proof we need.”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Why the hell do you keep contradicting yourself?” Sam asked, pushing himself off of the bus to look Gabriel in the eyes. “You hate me, you don’t hate me. You want me to rush and find the creature of the week and then when it’s right in front of me, you don’t want me to go.”

“I just don’t want you getting hurt is all,” Gabe insisted. Putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “This is kind of a lot to ask for, don’t you think. If anything, I can handle this by myself.”

“This is my expedition,” Sam said, shaking his head. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted, Gabe. You can’t just hijack it like that. You’re already telling me where I need to go and who I’m allowed to talk with. I should at least be the one to find the damn thing.”

“Do you really want to help them?” Gabe asked.

“Of course I do.”

“Then I can handle it.”

“What do you mean you can handle it? You wouldn’t have gotten this far without me.”

“Sam,” Gabe sighed.

“What?”

“It was someone like you who got killed last. And I don’t want to see you get hurt.” Gabe took a deep breath and rubbed a hand through his still damp hair. “Let me handle this one on my own. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“We aren’t keeping secrets unless it’s for the others safety, right?” Sam only nodded. “Well, it’s for your own safety.”

“Why the hell do I trust you?” Sam asked, laughing breathily. “Why am I not angry about this? I should be ballistic that you’re taking my job.”

“It’s because we broke rule number three, Sammy.” Gabe gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Almost. Attachments sort of do that to you. Don’t wait up. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I just-” Sam began. “I just want a little bit of an explanation. It doesn’t need to be the whole story but-”

“My brother,” Gabe said abruptly, his voice softer than he had ever heard it before. “He’s trying to hunt it down too. Like father like son I guess. I’ve been trying to kick you to the curb all day because I’ve been trying to make sure my brother doesn’t die. You’re distracting.”

“Oh,” Sam managed, running a hand over his face. “If you told me sooner I wouldn’t have acted like that.”

“But you trusted me,” Gabe hummed. “And that’s kinda what mattered the most, so I wasn’t going to push anything I didn’t want to say. You know me, Sammy. Mystery and Gabriel Noah Shurley are tight. Stay here and I’ll be back by morning at least. Then you can choose wherever the hell you want, I promise.”

“Okay.” Sam forced a smile. “See you in the morning. Bring back the fur, got it?”

“Got it, Captain.” Gabriel mouthed his thanks and pulled his shirt and jeans back on before disappearing into the forest. 


	5. Don't Ask, Don't Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that most of the art for this story came from. You guys should check it out after reading this  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10413534

Sam didn't trust him. Gabe knew that much. As much as the kid said he did, he could tell. He could tell when Sam glared harsher than anticipated when he made it back to Scully, even after showing him the fur coat that he did manage to grab. Plus, without the fur, the guy wasn't exactly cryptid status and just a monster. A monster that should be left up to different types of hunters. Still, Sam didn't budge. No crack of a smile, absolutely nothing. 

He could tell Sam didn't trust him when he offered to drive. It wasn't a surprise that Sam said declined the offer, it was a surprise that he didn't say anything at all. The only difference was that his grip on the wheel tightened and he didn't have any plans to let go. Even as Gabe switched through channel after channel until he settled on smooth jazz. Something that Gabriel was certain would at least push a few buttons on the Winchester.

If Gabe was being honest, he wouldn't trust himself either. But he wasn't, and still wanted to believe he was doing the right thing. He had to be. Even if Sam didn't realize the gravity of the situation that he's working with. Cryptids were dying, and Sam was none the wiser. Maybe he should tell him. Gabe sighed, leaning against the passenger window. Maybe he should tell him just so he could actually look Sam in the eyes again. His phone buzzed, and despite the sound of a Louis Armstrong solo drowning out the sound of their breathing, he heard the vibration against the leather seats. The only evidence of Sam even hearing it was the tightening of his jaw and his knuckles going white against the wheel.

 

_ Dad _

_ >> Where are you two? _

 

"Where are we?" Gabe asked, looking down at his phone. "Chuck wants to know."

"We're either in Colorado or Nebraska," Sam said absently. "It's all Rocky Mountain anyway. I'm surprised you're still getting reception." His jaw settled, but the grip stayed strong against the wheel

"You thought it was Meg." Gabe insisted.

"Of course not. I was just worried." Sam breathed. "What about your brother? What happened to him?"

"Brother from last night?" Gabe asked before quickly typing out a response to his father. "He's alive."

"Is that all I'm getting from you?"

"Nothing else to get." He insisted. "I convinced him to go home."

"Home being?"

"Davis," Gabe sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We all live around there with my dad."

"What do you mean by you all?" Sam asked as he pulled off into an exit.

"Chuck loved collecting all the unfortunates he could find. Not just me and Anna. Cas is his too, technically."

"So you're brothers?"

"No," Gabe shook his head. "We usually just go with family friends because it's easier. Somebody who knew my dad found Cas in Chicago. He stayed with us for a little until somebody else took him in."

"How long has it been since you talked with Cas?" Gabe only managed a half-hearted shrug. "He was pretty messed up about something a few weeks ago. I didn't have the chance to talk to him, but he was staying with Dean and he wouldn't shut up about him. Just said it was a family thing."

"Well, I guess I’m not family.” Scully rolled to a stop in front of an old bar that obviously had seen better days. The moon began to peek it's way over the horizon as the sun set. The sky was shades of pink and orange. The bar seemed so out of place while being surrounded by lush green plants and a setting sky.

"Where are we?"

"Monowi, Nebraska." Sam said, shifting the Kombi into park. "About."

"Did we just cross a border?"

"No, we did that a few hours ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Just in case your dad didn't want us to be here."

"Why the hell wouldn't he want us to be here?"

"Last time I checked, he had a pretty tight schedule he wanted us to stick to. Right, Gabe?"

"Oh," Gabe hummed, continuing to look out the window. "Wanna tell me why Monowi?"

"You wanted to see the Thunderbird." Sam said with a hum. “That was always kind of on the agenda.”

“You’re joking.” Gabe said, glancing over at Sam.

“Yeah, there was a sighting while we were still in San Quintin. I wouldn’t be surprised if it left by now, but we might as well try.” Sam said, parking. “There’ve actually been a lot of sightings lately. Is that anything Meg might know about?”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t her.”

“No, I know. I believe you.” Sam insisted. “I’m just curious if she would be willing to help us out, you know?”

“She’s kinda got a stricter schedule than us. I doubt she’d be willing. Besides, I don't think she's the biggest fan of you.”

Sam worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “That’s good. I don't like her either.” He said after a moment, unbuckling his seatbelt.

“So, you are jealous?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“But it looks like you are, hotshot.” Gabe teased, shoving Sam’s arm. “Don’t worry. I like you more.”

“Good to know.”

“You still don’t believe me.”

“I’m trying to. Trust me.”

“Is this about Riverbend?” Gabe asked. “We broke a rule that you were pretty serious about.”

“We didn’t have sex.” Sam countered. “Are you in, or no?”

Sam didn’t wait for an answer before climbing out of Scully and closing the door behind him. 

Gabe followed him with only little complaining. The tavern wasn't what he expected. Hell, it wasn't even the building he thought it would be. Instead of the rickety wood building, practically looking like a poorly stacked lincoln log hut, it was the building beside it. Larger than the assumed bar, but not by much. It was painted a clean white that had aged over the years. Paint beginning to fleck off on the sides. Its sign was much less captivating. A simple white poster with red bold typeface reading: Monowi Tavern

Gabe wanted to comment on it, but seeing Sam's hard face made him think better of it. The kid was trying to do something nice, yet they could barely look at each other in the eyes. 

The inside was nicer. Well, compared to Little A'Le'Inn at least. It held that captivating sort of old American feel about it. Coke advertisements littered the walls as well as a "Monowi; population 1" road sign. The interior was all wooded, from the bar to the walls, to the tables. An elderly woman stood behind the bar, cleaning a glass with a rag. 

"Any more surprises Sammy?" Gabe asked, attempting to lighten the mood. "I don't think my little heart can take it."

"I'll buy your burger for you. This time we can actually split it."

"Okay," Gabe sighed and pulled a seat out from the table before sitting on it backward. "I get that I did something you're not a big fan of. What I'm not getting is what the hell got into you." "What do you mean 'What the hell has gotten into me?' You know." Sam huffed, sitting across from him. "You said it yourself."

"What did I say?"

"We broke a rule."

"We didn't have sex."

"No, but you lied to me!"

"The rule wasn't lying. The rule was secrets."

"The rule was to keep both of us safe." Sam insisted, running a hand over his face and through his hair, pushing it back. "And now I'm pretty much going crazy trying to put together a puzzle that I only have the corner pieces too."

"What more do you want, Sam?" Gabe asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "There's not much else to know about me."

"You sure about that?" Sam scoffed. "Because right now to me, you're like a fucking mystery wrapped inside a riddle, inside an enigma."

"Wrapped inside a taco?"

"Sure, why not." Sam's eyebrows knit together as he leaned back in his chair. It was quiet for a moment and he was certain that the barkeep was having the time of her life just watching all of this unfold.

"What do you want then?"

"I don't know. Something."

"Does starting over sound good enough? Maybe I can try again." Gabe suggested. "Both of us can try again."

"What do you mean?"

"What kind of burger do you want?" Gabe asked, looking up at the menu suspended above the bar. "No Lumberjack. But the hamburger steak sounds good."

"How much do you want to bet that it's the exact same thing as the normal hamburger, just more expensive."

"Five bucks, I guess." Gabe said. "We could get both."

"I can only afford one." Gabe almost countered Sam, questioning him about the extra money that his brother had given him if not the one thousand dollars. Then, it hit him. Sam was playing along. Gabe couldn't fight the smile that began to sneak up on his face.

"What did I say?" Gabe asked. "It's either dinner or laundromat?"

Sam nodded. "Something like that. And you called me Samsquatch."

"I should do that more often."

"Do what?"

"Call you Samsquatch." Sam laughed, the corner of his lip turning up. "What's so funny?"

"Trust me, you call me it enough. Sometimes I think you forget my actual name."

"It's a cute nickname." He insisted, turning his attention back to the menu. "Guess I gotta start thinking of more, huh? You know, after the things you hunt."

"Oh, I don't hunt." Sam mocked himself, placing a hand over his heart as he leaned forward in an attempt to act all high and mighty.

"Oh really?"

He shook his head. "I do conservation projects. You know, find the animals, nurse them to health-"

"-Population growth, that sort of thing?" Gabe cut him off and stood up to turn his chair back around.

"I'm pretty sure I said that."

"I know you did." Gabe insisted. "But I swear to God, if you have to do douche it up like you did three months ago, I'm leavin’ your ass here."

"I thought Christianity wasn't your thing."

"I'll swear to Fjörgyn, then." Sam smiled and Gabe felt his heart speed up in his chest.

"You're an idiot."

"Kind hearted and hot." Gabe teased. He looked back up at the menu. "We should probably order something, huh?"

"Just get a hamburger, make it easy on both of us."

"You sure you don't want the lettuce salad?" Gabe teased before Sam swatted at him playfully. Insisting that the faster they get the food, the faster they can head out. 

The bartender, Elsie, obliged with their order quickly. Telling him that she was happy Gabe and his partner figured things out. Once the food was bagged and Sam finished the complimentary drink that Elsie had offered, they were ready to head out. It was almost like the first time again. The excitement was high, their hearts were racing, and everything was fine. Until, of course, it wasn't.

Things had a tendency to end. In Gabe’s book, that could mean practically anything. Friendships, relationship, adventures. All of those, he had been preparing himself to handle. What he wasn’t preparing for was Scully’s engine rumbling like a dream one mile and sputtering to a halt, smoke jutting out the next.

"Of course," Sam scoffed, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. "Because it was starting to get a little too easy."   
"She's old," Gabe said reluctantly with a shrug. "Nothing we can really do about it other than let her cool off and figure out the problem later." The sun still clung to the sky, the moon sneaking up over the horizon. Trees surrounded them on both sides with only an open road ahead of them. To Gabe, it was ten times better than the Little A'Le'Inn incident.   
"How well do you know cars?" Gabe asked, turning his attention back to a very stressed out Sam Winchester.   
"Enough, I guess." He huffed, running a hand through his hair. "Engines are different, though. You're right. It probably just needs to cool down a little."   
Gabe found himself starring as Sam waited a minute and thirty seconds before turning the ignition again, only to be met with defeat. It sputtered to life for only a mere moment before rumbling to a stop again. Another minute thirty. Another disappointment. Another minute thirty. And another disappointment. It took another few loop before Gabe noticed that Sam was deliberately counting. His eyes would squint together in focus as if maybe just a little bit more hope would be the jumpstart Scully deserved. Another disappointment. He began to notice smaller things. The scruff that was finally starting to come in. The inch that was cut off, leaving the rubber band to sit on his wrist as opposed to holding together the long strands it used to. His hair no longer reached his shoulders and instead curled a half inch below his ears. The small mole beside his nose. The little things like that. Another minute thirty. Another disappointment. Then, of course, there were the stress lines that settled above his brow bone. Gabe didn’t exactly remember them being that prominent three months prior. Another thirty seconds and Gabe looked in the mirror. Realizing that he hadn’t really done anything to clean himself up in the last weeks. He trimmed his beard when they were in San Quintin but, that was the height of pretty much anything. He forgot how it felt to stop really caring about his appearances. Especially considering he’s been pretty much living in a pair of maroon Stanford sweatpants that he was certain belonged to Sam for the last week. The minute closed off and, another disappointment earned an annoyed huff from Sam. 

“Okay,” Gabe grumbled, pushing the mirror back into its place on the ceiling. “The obsessive behavior was endearing for a little bit. Now it’s starting to worry me a little.”

“I’m not obsessive.”

“Says the man who has been turning the keys every minute and thirty seconds exactly.”

“Says the guy who's been timing me.”

“Not much else to do.” Gabe shrugged. “I get it, we’re stranded.”

Sam hummed, licking his lips as he looked around the cockpit. His eyes locked on the small storage space in front of the passenger side. “You think I’m obsessive?”

“I mean, I wouldn't be against you toning it down a little.”

“Well, I still think you’re a walking enigma, so how about we play a game.”

“What’s the game?”

“It’s like never have I ever, but with more alcohol.” Sam reached over and opened the space, revealing a glass bottle of a clear liquid. “Since it's just going to be us for a while. Something to make the time go by faster.”

“I guess I have no reason to complain. I’m always down to drink and all I really managed to get out of you for three months is your obsession about monsters and hatred of this car.”

“You’re one to talk.” Sam scoffed as he climbed out of the driver's side and pulled open the side door, digging through for supplies.

“About the car? Because I thought you made it pretty obvious.”

“No, I hate this thing. Trust me, I do. I just thought I was a little more open about everything.” He set the bottle to the side and climbed into the back, shoving the partition open. “I mean, I know you’re middle name is Noah and that you were adopted.”

“That’s all that’s really interesting about me.”

“I’m sure it isn’t.”

“Well, I’m sure that it is.”

“I’ll save my good questions for the game then.”

“Do we have stuff for camping?” Gabe asked, looking past the partition.

“Of course we do.”

“No, I mean like really. Stuff to start a fire, night under the stars sort of thing.”

“What makes the difference?”

“We might as well make a night of it. Get the mood settled.”

Before waiting for a response, Gabe climbed out of the car and began to look for supplies for a fire. Rocks, twigs that he pulled down for trees as well as some dry leaves they could use to keep the fire going. It had been so long since he was in the open air. San Quintin was too dry, Rochelle not really comfortable enough. There were too many eyes on him and too much supposed "family" around. But this, it was great. Middle of nowhere, his phone cut out hours ago. As far as the rest of the world knew, the population was only one. 

It was perfect.

He took in a big deep breath as Sam started the fire, looking up at the sky as the pinks turned into dark blues. 

"You look like you're enjoying yourself." Sam teased as he sat down beside the fire, pulling out their souvenir mugs from the A'Le'Inn. The alcohol leaning against a rock.

"That's because I am." Gabe hummed up at the sky and sat down beside Sam. "See, this is why I agreed to come with you."

"Not because your dad forced you?"

He shook his head. "You said it yourself, I had the choice. I was just hoping it would be more like an extended camping trip rather than a hunting one."

"I'm surprised Chewie is sleeping through this."

"The thing will wake up in a minute or two and dart into the woods."

"Don't say that," Sam said, nudging him. "Seriously, we at least need to bring something back to prove that this trip was meaningful."

"I think it's meaningful."

"Don't get sentimental. We haven't had any drinks yet." Sam reached out for Gabe's cup and poured no more than a shots worth into the respective mugs.

Gabe looked into the cup, swirling it around. "Think we can make boozy s'mores with these?"

"Only if we get creative." Sam answered. "I don't want to think too hard right now."

"Stressed?"

"More than."

"Why?"

"Look at us," He scoffed and motioned at the tree line around them with his alien decorated mug. "We're wasting time."

"I thought you wanted to."

"Doesn't mean I'll regret it in the long run."

It was quiet between the two of them for an agonizing amount of time. The only sounds were the rustling of the wind against the trees, the crackling of the fire, and Chewie rustling in the kombi as he slowly woke up.

"Twenty questions," Gabe started. "Or truth or drink?"

"Truth or drink."

Sam couldn't believe it. There were so many things that he wanted to ask Gabe. Of course, there was a chance of some not being answered. But, that was a risk he was willing to take. All he wanted to know was the life of the mysterious, fellow traveler that he had been sharing a bed with for the last three months. The chances were endless.

"Favorite color?"

Then, of course, it was just as possible that Gabe didn't want to play along.

"Seriously?"

"What?" Gabe mumbled defensively around the marshmallow he had stuffed in his mouth with the time it took for Sam to reply. "It's an honest question."

"I don't have one," Sam said with a shrug.

"Then, if you had to choose, what would it be?"

"Blue," Sam answered. "It's on the opposite side of the color spectrum to orange and I'm really starting to get tired of it."

"See, one round without a drink." Gabe smiled.

"I haven't asked you anything yet."

"Okay then, shoot."

"What makes you happy?"

Gabe thought for a moment, looking into the fire as it danced in his eyes. "I don't know."

"If you had to choose."

"Why does it matter?"

"I just prefer when people are happy," Sam said with a shrug as he grabbed his own marshmallow. "So maybe I could do something to help them."

"You sound like a horoscope." Gabe said, his eyes breaking away from the blaze to meet Sam's own.

"I mean, with good reason." Sam said with a shrug. "I'm a Taurus."

“I’m a Cancer.”

“You don't seem like the type.” 

“What, not sweet enough for you?”

“No, not really.” Sam quipped. "But you try, and that matters."

“I thought you were starting to like me.”

“I was.”

"Are you bipolar?” Gabe asked, reaching over to the bottle to pour more into his cup.

“No," Sam answered. "But all of the 'crazies' usually get lumped together.”

"Want to elaborate?"

"On the next question, I might." He thought for a moment, biting his bottom lip. "What would you consider as home?"

"I live in Davis with Chuck." Gabe offered.

"No, I mean really. What is your home?"

Gabe downed the shot of sotol in his "I'd rather be alien hunting" mug. 

"Good to know."

"Okay, my turn." Gabe said, once the hot liquid settled in his stomach with a cough and grimace. "Did you actually get the bigfoot scar done professionally."

Sam threw back the shot without hesitation.

"Does your dad know?"

"One question per round."

“Okay,” Gabe whined. “Then ask your question.”

“Have you ever been on USC’s campus for anything more than a game or prank.” Sam asked smugly.

“Ah,” Gabe said with a smile. “Kamikaze technique. You should take a shot for that one.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I know that no self-respecting cardinal would. Or, at least not admit it.”

“USC was one of my top choices.”

“Doesn’t mean you toured it. Especially not when you were waiting for an acceptance letter from Stanford.”

Sam shrugged. “You’re right, I didn’t. But only because tickets to Los Angeles were more expensive. And, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I haven’t.” Gabe answered with a shrug. “Never had the chance too. Are you vegetarian?”

“We had burgers earlier today.”

“Hey, I was gonna ask if you were vegan too. Just because I feel like you would be more into the extremes of that sort of thing.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Crazies, right?”

“Well,” Sam shrugged. “I’m semi-vegetarian. I try to cut off on the meat, but I have an iron deficiency so fish and eggs usually stick in. Then sometimes bacon and other pork because I have no self-control.”

“So, you’re anemic?”

“Technically, yeah.”

“And what was your middle name?”

“I already told you.” Sam said. “It’s Adam, why does it matter?”

“And you're asthmatic. And have anxiety.”

“I don’t have anxiety.”

“Either way,” Gabe countered. “You could be lying.”

“Why would I be lying about my middle name? Or being asthmatic? It’s not like it's something fun.”

“Hey,” Gabe held his hands up in defense. “I’m just noticing the whole alphabetical thing.”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah. God’s irony, I guess. With a last name like ‘Winchester’ you never get the front of the line.”

“Alright, A-team, what else do you have?”

“You’ve gone through like, three questions.”

“Maybe so, but I’m curious.”

“Autism.” Sam thought for a moment and took a large bite of the s'mores. “Well, Aspergers. But I’ve learned how to hide it.”

Gabriel wasn’t sure what to say. “That explains a lot. Was that the crazy you were talking about?”

“Like I said, special interest. High functioning, though.” Sam mumbled through a mouth of food.

“I never said it was a bad thing, Samsquatch.”

“Neither did I.” He shrugged. “I got used to it. I mean, I was mercilessly teased for practically everything until about age 16 when I decided to give up on it and become a lawyer. Got into Stanford with a full ride. I’m pretty sure you know the rest.”

“I only got the big picture, Sammy. If you want to give details, I won’t complain about it.”

“I thought you didn’t want to play along.”

“Trust me, Sammy. I’m very into this.”

“That’s good,” He laughed nervously, clicking his nails against the mug in an attempt to calm himself down. They were wasting time and this time, it was  _ his _ fault. He did his best to ignore his inner clock ticking away. “Jesus Christ, this is harder than I thought.”

“I’m not trying to push, Sam. Whatever you don’t want to say, you don’t.”

The haze of the drinks started to really settle on Sam, giving him a little heavier than a gentle buzz. “You’re cheating.”

“How?”

“By going through a full interrogation of me, and I still don’t know anything about you.”

“What can I say, I’m very convincing. Just play along, I’m listening.” Gabe reached for the bottle and poured far more than should be healthy into it before sipping at it casually. He must’ve noticed the look in Sam’s eyes. “Truth or drink, right? I’ve got nothing to say, so I’ll just work on this.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’ll go first then. But you have to promise to at least give me something to work with.”

“Cross my heart, Sam.”

“I was pretty much obsessed with cryptids for… forever. I don’t even remember what started it. Even before my dad got me the book, I just found it more interesting. I couldn’t really talk yet, couldn’t really until I was about three. And when I did, it was only to Dean or my mom. When I did first talk to my dad I told him about nightmares where he was the monster. He bought me the book to prove that he wasn’t because a monster wouldn’t want someone to know the truth. If he was a monster he wouldn’t have proof against it. Uh… I don’t...I’m not-”

“Drink?”

Sam nodded and held the mug out, watching as the clear liquid poured into his cup. “Anyway, worse comes to worse. As it pretty much always does. My mom and dad separated and something weird happened when she was on her way to pick us up from dad’s apartment. My dad blamed me and Dean for it and kinda took it out on us.”

“What was weird?”

“Why else would I take the shot?”

“Got it, won’t ask again.”

“She kinda just disappeared one day. She was in the hospital for weeks before we get a call saying that she wasn’t in her bed anymore. A month later I tell everyone about the supposed bigfoot in fucking Lawrence, Kansas and I’m called insane for the next four years of my life before going to a high school in a different state. I got the scar, I kept reading, but I sort of gave up on it past that. I wanted to be normal. Dean was going to college on an engineering scholarship and I wanted to play along, so I said I’d be a lawyer. That went to shit. Dean lost his scholarship and dropped out, I lost my scholarship and changed majors. Now I’m here, in the middle of nowhere Nebraska with a mug of sotol, waiting on a Thunderbird to show up with a stranger and an abusive father on my trail.”

“My father, or yours?”

“Possibly two abusive fathers on our trail.” Sam hesitated. “What did Chuck do?”

“Neglect,” Gabe said with a small shrug. “Hell, half the time he forgot about the twenty kids he took care of because he was too busy writing with a bottle of jack next to his typewriter. Doesn’t really phase you, though. My dad’s the one who's paying you.”

“But, if he’s hurting you-”

“Not hurting.” Gabe corrected. “Forgetting about.” Through the light of the fire, Sam could see Gabe’s eyes were puffy. Had he been crying? He didn’t even think it was possible for Gabe to break down that much. He just assumed there were permanent walls blocking off practically everything.

“Maybe we should stop.” Sam said. “It’s getting late and it’s supposed to storm tonight.”

Gabe looked up, starting to notice that Sam had seen him. He quickly wiped at his eyes. “Sorry about ruining the mood, Sammy. I’m a weepy drinker. How much alcohol is in this?”

“A little over fifty.”

“That would explain how badly I want to fuck you right now, then.” Gabe joked, waving a hand at nothing in particular. “I got a few more questions in me.”

“Of course you do.” Sam countered. “Like?”

Gabe shook his head, running a hand through his overgrown hair. “I gotta think of one first.”

The distant sound of rumbling thunder brought both of them back to the present. “Maybe we should stay in Scully for the night. “Sam suggested.”

“That sounds weird coming from someone who wanted to scrap her an hour ago.”

“I never said that I did.”

“I know you didn’t. But, you're easy to read.”

“Oh really?” Gabe nodded. “What am I thinking now, then.”

“How badly  _ you _ wanna fuck me.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Gabe.”

“My mind isn’t in the gutter, I’m being serious.” He crawled over into Sam’s space, practically sitting on him. “Very, very serious.” Sam caught a few more tears escaping in the reflection of the fire.

“You okay?” He asked in a low voice. Gabe only shrugged. “We should just call it a night.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“No,” Sam countered. “I mean really. We have to get back on track and we both need to be on the top of our game.”

“Who says I’m not on the top of my game?”

A synth piano riff interrupted Sam’s answer.

_ It wasn't love, it wasn't love _ _   
_ _ It was a perfect illusion _

“You’re dad, apparently.” He whispered. “Or, am I wrong?”

“Fuck him,” Gabe shook his head. “And fuck everybody who has been trying to ruin my  _ life _ for the last three months. Hell, the last year.”

“Gabe-”

“I just want to make it out of this without another goddamn phone call. Or text. Or someone telling me I need to rush. Or that I’m going to fast. Or that I’m just like my father. I just want to go home.” Gabe let his head fall on Sam’s shoulder. Tears began to seep through Sam’s t-shirt. “Do me a favor,” Gabe continued. “Grab my phone out of my back pocket and just chuck it into the bonfire. And do it fast so I don’t think about it too long.”

“Gabe,” Sam repeated. This time more gentle, letting his hands card their way to the nape of Gabriel’s neck. “I want to help, I do. But, you’ve gotta tell me what’s happening.”

“I’m a dead man walking, Sammy.” Gabe admitted, letting out a deep breath. Tripping over his words. “Do me a favor and let’s just scrap rule number three.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the whole truth thing.” Gabe sighed, tilting his head so his lips would be pressed up against Sam’s neck. He took a deep breath in and mouthed at the exposed skin.

“What about it?” Sam managed.

“The truth sucks.” His partner faltered. “And you’d leave me if you knew it. Trust me, I’m all about dropping people, but I actually don’t want to lose you. Not yet, at least.”

It was quiet for a moment. Only the thunder closing in grounded them in the reality of everything. “My dad didn’t let me get the scar,” Sam conceded. “Some asshole did it to me at school and I touched it up about two years ago when I decided to commit to this. Dad wasn’t the biggest fan. Sober or drunk. Dean and I ran away. He never technically got into college. He just showed up at all of the lectures and took the tests. Nobody knew the difference in a number. And I didn’t finish high school. I got my GED at seventeen and waited a year before I made a fake transcript to get into Stanford. The weird thing that happened to my mom was, seeing Bigfoot. But she preached it. Running around the city until someone had her sent to a mental facility where she disappeared. People just assumed I was the same way.” Sam took a deep breath. “Do you want to lose me yet?”

“I mean,” Gabe lifted his head and shrugged. “I think I still have you beat.”

“How’s that?”

“Take a wild guess, I’m sure you won’t be that far off.”

“You’ve gotta stop being so cryptic.”

“I thought you liked cryptic.” 

Sam’s eyes fluttered closed as the feeling of another pair of lips landed on his own. The feeling of scratchy scruff left red marks over his face as the kiss deepened. It didn’t feel like the one that was shared before. It didn’t feel like Gabe was only teasing him either. It was almost as if they really needed each other. For better or worse.

Maybe scrapping rule number three should have happened earlier.

His hands roamed up the back of Gabe’s shirt, causing the other to shiver as Sam’s icy hands met with his spine. Rain began to fall, but Gabe didn’t show any sign of so much as noticing it. Let alone caring. Sam steered their way towards the kombi, his back pressed up against the right, back door as Gabe clung to him. Their kiss unbreaking. Sam managed to get a hand free and used it to pull open the left one, causing them to fall inside to the sound of laughter and a very surprised el Chupacabra. Chewie scrambled outside of Scully, but loitered near the fire.

“C’mon,” Gabe breathed once the laughter had faded. “You’ve been in control this entire trip and you’ve been stressed for three months straight.”

“You’re point?” Sam groaned, trying to keep his voice steady despite the heat building up in his chest from Gabe’s position on top of him.

“Let me take the wheel. Just for a few minutes to about six hours.”

“Six hours is a lot.”

“It’s been some time, Sam. And from the looks of everything, we both deserve this.”

Perfect illusion began to play once more. This time, it went entirely ignored.

“I didn’t bring lube,” Sam said reluctantly. “It’s not like I got any before I came here anyway. I didn’t think we-”

“Lucky for you, I was a boy scout.” Gabe reached over and pulled a travel sized bottle of lube out of his duffel, leaning most of his weight on Sam. “Always be prepared.”

“Gabe,” Sam urged, trying to move out from under him. “Maybe it’s better if we keep the rule. I mean, yeah the tension is there and trust me, I want to, but-”

“If you don’t want to do anything, you know I’ll stop.”

“I get that,” Sam insisted, forcing himself to crawl his way to the platformed bed while Gabe climbed on with him. “And I want to respect that. But is isn’t exactly the best first time in the world, is it?”

“That’s not where I thought that was heading.”

“What were you expecting.”

“I don’t know. Some over emotional thing about how I pretty much just lost my shit. Which isn’t a big deal by the way.” Gabe insisted with a wave of his hands. “I just want sex. A nice distraction. And this doesn’t even need to count as a first time if you don’t want it to.” He paused. “Are you a virgin?” The question came out more sincerely than Sam had anticipated.

“No!” Sam said quickly. “I’m just worried that this is going to mess everything up. I mean, we’re kinda running on a tight-” he stopped himself as he saw Gabe’s reaction. Sick of people rushing him, right. “I’m sorry.”

“Sammy.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re making this sort of weird, don’t you think?” Gabe said, leaning close once more.

“Sex is kinda a weird territory for me.” Sam admitted. “I usually have to practically love that person before I’m even interested. That or just wanting to relieve stress with an attractive person.”

Gabe perked up, a small smirk finding its familiar spot on his lips. “So you do love me?”

“What makes you say that?”

“The fact that you just spilled your guts to me, Samsquatch. And I’m still here. So, what’s to stress about?”

“The huge bird circling the city that we’re supposed to be looking for.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “Trust me, he’ll still be here as long as we are.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Intuition. Trust me, I’m practically a whisperer of these things.” He pressed another kiss to Sam’s lips. “You never answered my question.”

“I tolerate you.”

“How much do you tolerate me?”

“To an extent that has me just as freaked out as you were about you leaving me.”

Gabe opened his mouth to say something but closed it just as fast. Instead, he straddled Sam’s hips and pressed a hand to the middle of his chest. Causing him to fall back onto the mattress before climbing back off and leaning above him. “Love sex is good. It’s way more emotional, but if we’re both bad we can laugh about it while planning our next round.”

“If we’re both bad, what makes you think we’ll want another round?”

“Tolerance. Not everything needs to be rushed.”

Soft lips pressed back against his own as Gabriel found a spot on his knees between Sam’s thighs. Before Sam even had the chance to really register the mouth, it moved down to his collar bone. Gabriel’s hands skillfully fiddled with the leather belt clasped around Sam’s waist, keeping both of them from the obvious end goal.

_ Not everything needs to be rushed. _

Sam tilted Gabe’s head up so their lips would clash together once more. His hands ended up settling on Sam’s hips, only his thumbs making contact with skin as Sam’s shirt rode up. The younger’s hands found their way into Gabriel’s hair. Tangling themselves in the thick light brown strands that were longer than Sam first remembered.

They stayed like that for a moment. As the time went on, their touches grew more heated. Sam would always redirect Gabriel’s movements. His hand would make it’s way into Sam’s belt loops before he would shift down and have Gabe’s hands cup around the nape of Sam’s neck and deepen their already passionate kiss. It wasn’t until Sam’s leg was hooked over Gabriel’s shoulder, the knee of his jeans catching and ripping on a notch in the ceiling, dry humping roughly against each other, that Sam let the next step happen. 

“You’re kinda a control freak. You know that, right?” Gabe breathed, finally pulling his shirt over his head before going back to working on Sam’s belt.

“I’ve been told.” Sam managed after the pesky belt was finally off and shucked his torn and damp jeans off, followed immediately by an already ruined pair of boxers briefs. 

Gabe’s hands felt like fire on Sam’s skin as he kissed down his chest, fingers teasing at his rim. Sam practically ripped his shirt off before letting his hands drop back on the bed. The cotton sheets stuck to the sweat prickling out of his skin. His heart was beating out of his chest and all the blood in his body had made it’s way down to his dick. His head was spinning so badly, he couldn’t even find a space to focus on the ceiling. Stars danced across his vision as Gabriel added another finger. The only sounds Sam could hear was the wind howling outside, the sloppy sounds of Gabe's fingers going in and out of him, and his own heartbeat.

And then Gabriel pulled away. Leaving Sam vulnerable, empty, and needy.

“ _ Gabe-”  _ Sam moaned, trying to reach and bring the other closer. “ _ Please… _ ”

Gabriel shook his head and made tsk noises. “You’ve got to calm down. Let me take care of you. No matter how long it takes.”

“Six hours, huh?” Sam huffed, moving his arms behind his head, forcing his voice to steady.

“Or longer.” Gabriel purred and leaned over to kiss Sam once more. “Leg up.”

He did as he was told, and before he knew it, Gabriel’s thick cock was making its way into him. Sam breathed a small cuss that Gabe only chuckled about. They stayed like that for a moment. The intimacy and the fullness that Sam was feeling already pushing him closer to the edge. The same edge he had been basically standing on for the last, how long had it been? Probably only a half hour. But it could just as easily been hours. Hours that Sam couldn’t afford missing. 

He squirmed, and Gabriel tsked at him again. “Eager, aren’t we?”

His hands reached out awkwardly and grabbed hold of the back of Gabe’s neck before the other began thrusting deep into him. The first hit of his prostate had Sam mewling for more. All thoughts of time out of the window.

_ “Fuck. Yes. Right there. Right...Gabriel… I’m-” _

Gabe made more shushing noises. “ _ I know. So close. _ ”

Each thrust grew more and more erratic. Matched up with sloppily attempted kisses from Sam. Landing anywhere from his forehead, to his chin. 

Neither could keep quiet if they were even trying. Panting, and begging filled the car and echoed off of the artificial wood paneling surrounding them. Plastic utensils jostled in the storage area below them, colliding with Gabe’s and Sam’s duffel bags. Sam couldn’t care less. Apparently, neither could Gabe.

Sam was positive he had never come that hard and that in time with anyone in his life. His back arched off of the mattress and his chest made contact with Gabriel’s own. His thrusts slowed down and Sam let his arms fall to the side of him. A moment later, Gabriel laid down next to Sam, taking in deep breaths.

“How good’s your refractory period?” Gabe asked between inhales. It took Sam longer than he would admit to even register what Gabe had said. Still coming down from the high.

“Never timed it.”

“I’ll be good to go again in about three minutes.” Gabe chuckled. “Gotta make up for lost time.”

Gabe’s fingers found their way into Sam’s hair, stroking absentmindedly. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, Sam was sure he would be willing to go another round. Or two. Or three.

“Think you can wait for five?”

“I’m sure I can manage.”

Gabriel laughed as they fell back down onto the mattress. Pressed up against the smooth flesh of Sam’s chest. Sweat practically gluing the two of them to each other. Sam’s fingers found themselves absentmindedly running themselves through Gabe’s thick hair.

He glanced up, trying to meet Sam’s eyes only to, instead meet a small space underneath Sam’s neck that was soft and covered with scruff.

He laughed even harder.

“What is it?” Sam asked, the corners of his lips turning up in the slightest.

“You have a double chin.”

“No, I don't.” Sam said quickly while adjusting himself. The jest was evident in his voice, but Gabriel feared he may have hurt the giant’s feelings.

“It's probably just baby fat or something,” He said. “But it's nice to know you have a little chink in that rock hard armor of yours.”

“Why is that good?” Sam asked, the joking tone leaving his voice.

“It means you're human.”

“As opposed to not being human?”

“You’d be surprised.” The inevitable question hung in the air without either of them reacting to it. Gabriel could tell him easily, it wasn't like he was a skeptic. They were on a monster road trip for gods’ sake. 

“These sheets are gross.” Gabe said, changing the topic as quickly as he could. “Think you can reach under and grab the spare from under the bed?”

“Chewie made his way back in around round two.” Sam countered. “You’ll wake him up.”

“It’s nice enough out. Other than the rain I’m sure he would want to sleep outside anyway.”

Gabe made a move to get up from the bed, but Sam grabbed hold of his hand. “Don’t leave.”

“I was gonna go put the fire out.”

“It probably already is. Just a few more minutes, okay?”

“You don't believe me?”

“Believing is kinda my thing, Gabe. I just want you for a few more minutes is all.”

“Leaving a fire on isn’t very boy scout of you.”

“You were the boy scout, not me.”

“It’s a good thing I never got passed cubs then, huh?” Gabe laughed, letting himself fall back into the bed. “You’re clingier than I thought you would be.”

“I warned you, didn’t I?” Sam asked, wrapping a layer of blankets around himself. “There was a reason for the rule.”

“Maybe, but we’re better off without it.”

_ Mistaken for love _

_ It wasn’t love _

_ It was a perfect illusion. _

“I’ll be back in a second.” Gabe sighed, reality crashing down on him. He can’t just give everything up. He wanted too. Gods, he wanted too. But, he was too damn close.

“You son of a bitch.” Sam mumbled from underneath his cocoon of covers. The threat was half-hearted, Gabe knew that. Still didn’t change that it hurt.

“Sam-”

“Gabriel.”

Gabe sighed, as he pulled a pair of pants on and a shirt, who they belonged to, he was unsure. He stared at the light illuminating the back of Scully. Suddenly, the eyes of the past rock legends were a little more intimidating. Then, the sound of a large screech and a loud thumping noise cut into the quiet. Sam sat up immediately.

“Do you think that was-”

“I’ll handle it.” Gabe said, hurriedly pushing open the door.

“Gabe!”

He turned around and slammed the door shut before Sam had the chance to put clothes on and follow him. “Stay in here and don’t leave.” He commanded before running after the noise.

The ten-minute trek to the noise sped by and felt as if it was only ten seconds before he came across a large eagle-like creature, looming above him. Bright blue eyes and stark black foliage lit up with the distant lightning.

“You know better.” Gabe said as the bird scrambled upwards. The wings dropping slowly. The eyes looked devastated. As if the damn thing was about to cry. “You could have gotten hurt. So could have Michael. I can’t go a day without hearing about a fucking sight by one of you guys. What the hell has gotten into you.”

“Don’t even try to justify yourself, Gabriel.” The creature screeched in Gabe’s ear as the feathers began to fall off around him. The beak shrinking back into the body. Leaving a man in a loose-fitting shirt and sweatpants topped off with mussed up shaggy brown hair and blue eyes that practically glowed.

“Cas-” Gabe started, only to be cut off.

“Don’t Cas me.” He said, stepping closer. “And don’t act like you’re any better than I am.”

“Somebody could see you,” he said in a hushed tone. “Sam could have seen you.”

“At this point, I might as well. Considering he can see more than you can.”

“What the hell are you-”

“We’re dying, Gabe.” Cas’ voice cracked. “We’re being killed off.”

“What do you mean “we” I’m not one of you.” Gabe countered. “Never been.”

“Well you aren’t exactly one of them either, are you?”

“I never said I was.”

“Do you even bother to check in on your family? When was the last time you heard from Anna? Or Raphael? Or even Chuck?”

“Dad is fine.”

“How do you know that?” Cas asked, letting his anger melt away into sadness. “What does it matter if all you want to do is run away?”

“I was stolen.”

“No, you weren’t. None of us were.”

“And yet, here we are.” Gabe scoffed. “You’re not in the asscrack of Siberia and I’m not in Ukraine. Or Poland. Or wherever the hell I’m from. My home is still there, and I’m sorry yours got wiped out but I want to go back. You don’t need to fight for what’s happening here. Go home.”

“I was home.” Cas argued. “I was home when I was in Davis. I’m at home when I’m with Dean in San Francisco. Having to hide isn’t home.”

“In Davis, we were hiding.”

“In Davis, I had a family who cared about me.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Who cares about all of us.”

“If I get the money, you can come with me. We’ll still be family if that’s what you want so bad. Family with more than two thousand miles apart, but family nonetheless.”

“I have family here. So do you.”

“They don’t mean anything.”

“So, I don’t mean anything?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sam doesn’t mean anything?”

The world went still for mere seconds. His heart wasn’t beating. He wasn’t breathing. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Gabe-”

“No, I’m not waiting for another excuse.” He forced himself to breathe. To center himself. “And don’t show your sorry ass like that again, Fly Boy. Because he’ll keep looking and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“So you’re leaving him after everything?”

“Nothing’s happened.” Gabe insisted. “Nothing that matters. Nothing that he saw. I could tell him I want to go and find myself, and he would believe me. Now go.”


End file.
